


backward upside down and inside out

by PetuniaViolet



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult reddie trying to hide their relationship from younger reddie, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Bisexual Richie Tozier, British Audra, Culture Shock, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Panic, Homophobic Language, M/M, Making Out, Panic Attacks, Pop Culture, Post-Canon Fix-It, Protective Eddie Kaspbrak, Protective Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie and Eddie are rich asf, Slow Burn, Stan is depressed but he's in therapy, Stanley Uris Lives, The Turtle (IT) CAN Help Us, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Young Love, on younger reddie, there is no sexual content in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21637132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetuniaViolet/pseuds/PetuniaViolet
Summary: But as he left his fantastic bathroom after taking a relaxing bath in his spa-like tub, he suddenly felt a tug inside his guts as his blurry sight caught a short figure from the corner of his eyes. Richie calmly reached for his glasses by the short dresser and froze when a familiar face came into his view after putting them on—a kid who definitely didn’t belong here.Not here, as in this house.Here, as in this fucking year.orrichie and eddie just wanted to have a fun month with their friends but then 13-year-old eddie blips into their bedroom
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, mike hanlon/happiness
Comments: 212
Kudos: 532





	1. We Care a Lot

**Author's Note:**

> i finally have an ending for this story. let's try and reach it together, shall we?
> 
> Enjoy!

_Gan was not surprised when he felt the presence of The Eater of Worlds pass away. That creature has been feasting on that meek, little planet for too long—preying on a race much weaker than IT like the frightened beast it was.  
_

_It’s been roughly fifteen billion years ago since Gan last saw IT and he knew that one day, the Eater would find ITS match—ITS mortal enemy that Gan easily guessed the shapeshifter had patronized and mocked._

_Gan could laugh because the starved entity was slaughtered by seven humans. Not an army with the strongest weapons the planet could produce, but seven average shining humans who had a close bond with each other._

_Two of them were almost killed by the Eater, one almost let fear end his life and the other during battle—but in the end, those humans realized ITS weakness and were victorious. Because the Eater had been sloppy, ITS arrogance had been ITS doom._

_Good riddance, Gan smiled, he never liked that pest._

_Maturin however, was a great loss. His old, kind turtle friend was missed every second within the Macroverse. Every guardian missed Maturin and his wise personality—Gan has never felt so alone in his fifty billion years of life._

_He was getting old too, but he was God. The creative overforce in the cosmology of many universes. He was immortal, and if he ever perished, his and Maturin’s universes would cease to exist until a new entity replaced his existence to begin life again._

_Gan perished those thoughts, he could never imagine losing all of them._

_Especially Maturin’s vomited universe—the one that held those seven humans that killed the Eater of the Worlds. Before perishing by chocking on two universes, Maturin had always expressed how much he cared for a few humans in that small planet—he had blessed them with a gift that he named ‘the shining’, and even though Gan thought it was a waste of time for his friend to care—he understood now._

_Seven humans killed a creature much, much stronger than them._

_And Gan respected that. He only wished he could tell Maturin how right he was about his humans, or at least about these seven._

_Gan watched them all move on._

_Fall in love._

_Conceive._

_Gan was used to seeing this circle of life between humans. And many other species were the same. Gan thought that maybe, he had loved Maturin as well._

_Maturin had loved humans. Even in death, he was peaceful, because he knew Gan would take care of his accidental universe._

_Gan made a decision._

_Honoring his friend, he was going to help the version of Maturin’s creations that still had a lot to mature. He traveled when they were neither children or adults, about to meet the Eater for the first time._

_His plan was simple: he no longer wanted IT to make them suffer more than they already did, so, decisively, he used his godly powers to drastically change the Eater’s game. And even though ITS presence was worthless in the past, Gan could feel ITS fury while IT slumbered. Gan did not fear something that was already dead—and much, much weaker than him._

_Time and space had already been tampered with, Gan could stop it if he wished so, but he would not._

_For Maturin._

_For the sake of those seven children._

_And for his own amusement._

* * *

A lot happened for the past three years.

In two-thousand-sixteen, the Losers Club successfully finished a battle they began twenty-seven years ago. They also became more confident people who realized the lives they had needed a change.

It all started with Stan Uris.

Stan was always the most conscientious of the Losers. He was always the most straight-laced, the most grown-up. He always dressed well, he spoke far less and was always the one to point out how impossible Pennywise was. His main hobby was bird watching. Spotting birds, recording the sighting, confirming the type. As an adult, he became an accountant. A profession that relies on rules, precision, and details. As an adult, most people lose the pliability of childhood. The suspension of disbelief becomes harder to manage. In Stan’s case, this proved almost fatal. He never recovered from the PTSD stemming from almost having his face bitten off by Pennywise.

Mike’s phone call lifted the protective amnesia that the Losers had been living with since childhood and Stan’s ordered world came undone. He simply did not want to face as an adult what he could only barely face as a child.

But then, Richie called the Uris residence just when Stan was about to take a bath.

All it took was for him to hear his forgotten best friend’s voice and seeing Patty Uris’—his loving wife—concerned expression as she watched him talk over the phone with Richie.

Stan, decisively, went to Derry.

Bill Denbrough became a novelist with an affinity for horror novels, but his five books received mixed reviews because of the endings. Unknown to the man, he had detailed his characters after his childhood friends. He also moves to England and married an actress named Audra Phillips, who’s described as looking similar to Beverly Marsh. When Mike called him, they were both in Los Angeles because of a movie that was being made out of his most popular book—he was struggling back then. Both with a stubborn director that wanted a new (better) ending and with a rocky relationship with his wife.

Defeating a clown made Bill realize how much he loved Audra, and even though he kissed Beverly the two attended marriage counseling and his wife forgave him because she too loved her clumsy husband.

Beverly traveled the world as a fashion designer. Unfortunately, she ended up trapped in a relationship that exhibited controlling and abusive behavior that reminded her of Alvin Marsh.

When Mike called, it was like he gave her the keys to her cell that ultimately set her free.

She gained back the same strength she had as a thirteen-year-old and fought her way out of her prison and abusive marriage. And even though Tom, her now ex-husband, made the divorce complicated and petty as he could—she was free, in the arms of a man that genuinely loved her.

Ben, now an architect, focused on his health after leaving Derry as an overweight kid and became a model for a few years before becoming one of the most successful architects in the world.

He never forgot Beverly, even when his memories forced him to. Beverly was always in his heart, her sweet words from his year book’s page were kept inside his wallet for twenty-seven years.

And just two weeks after starting a new life with her, when she proposed, they got married three months later on a small ceremony that only the Losers and Kay McCall (Beverly’s closest friend from Chicago) attended.

Richie, a stand-up comedian with numerous distinct characters, had led a really depressing and facade life until Mike called. It was darkly funny how a person could repress his own sexuality for almost thirty years.

But as soon as he walked into that Chinese restaurant and sat down at the table with his childhood friends—Richie knew damn well that just by looking and hearing Eddie Kaspbrak he was still in love with him. That short, hypochondriac bastard still managed to give him butterflies after all these years, and Richie loved him, so much.

That’s why when he was caught in the deadlights and saw his Eddie being stabbed in the chest by Pennywise’s spider claw, he instantly took action as soon as he woke up to see Eddie cheering on top of him, having saved him from those lights and thinking he had killed IT—he rolled them both to the side and changed the future when that claw didn’t even land a scratch on Eddie.

After they practically bullied the clown until IT was weakened enough to rip ITS heart out, Eddie kissed him after both jumped off a stupidly dangerous cliff into the quarry, at the same time.

And just a week after returning to L.A with a new life—Richie came out on Twitter and the internet went crazy. He lost some fans but gained even more. Even celebrities with far more clout than him had been supportive, and coming out helped Richie boost his career with even more interviews, no more heteronormative jokes and collabs with comedians like John Mulaney and Kevin Hart.

But what his fanbase liked the most was that he finally started writing his own material, instead of letting someone else do that for him.

Eddie was the only other one who got into a business that didn’t rely on some form of creativity. He was a risk analyst, and he got himself married to Myra, a woman that could only be described as a blonde version of his deceased mother.

When Mike called him, both his car and reality crashed as Eddie realized that the life he led was placebo. It was all bullshit.

As soon as he saw Richie Tozier, he knew that his loveless marriage was over.

And even though it took him longer than Richie to figure out his suppressed sexuality, Eddie Kaspbrak made a decision on his own for the first time and kissed that trash mouth after being pumped with adrenaline from killing IT.

He didn’t even fucking care about both of them being covered with dirty water. 

The divorce was messy, a needy and manipulative Myra had been expected and Eddie was as nice as possible because he felt slightly guilty about it. But in the end, he left New York City and moved in with Richie in Beverly Hills while working from home.

Mike, unlike the others, didn’t leave Derry.

This allowed him to maintain all memories of Pennywise and the summer of nineteen-eighty-nine. He became a historian and librarian, studying in preparation for Pennywise’s ultimate return. This included saving clippings and images relating to either Derry’s mysterious history of Pennywise.

When he called back the Losers and told them he knew how to defeat IT, he didn’t share with them the Native people's outcome, as he feared their knowing would lead them to not believe and the Ritual to not work completely for them either.

In the end, it didn’t work anyways.

But then, it did.

Each Loser had to face their worst fears, but they were able to come back together in ITS lair to face their literal demon once and for all.

Mike no longer had to lie and live with fear.

Ben wasn’t going to die alone.

Beverly was free.

Richie accepted his sexuality and regained genuine happiness.

Eddie released himself from a dead-end life and fell in love again.

Bill realized that Georgie’s death wasn’t his fault. And moved on from his childhood crush.

And Stan wasn’t weak, and he loved being alive, his friends, and his wife very much.

This all happened in a year—they could never forget it. And they wouldn’t.

In 2017, Richie proposed to Eddie.

They married in March, away from the public world and the media with only close friends and family witnessing it. They were now Richie and Eddie Tozier-Kaspbrak.

Beverly had been five months pregnant when she attended the wedding, and then in July, Lydia E. Hanscom-Marsh was born. She had Beverly’s red hair and Ben’s once chubbiness. He was anxious about seeing his daughter end up overweight because of his genetics, but Beverly knew it was too early to even discuss it.

Stan and Patty were also blessed that year when they finally conceived the child that they always wanted—a baby girl that they named Aviva Andrea Uris, born in August. With Stan’s dark, curly hair and Patty’s hazel eyes, she was the perfect combination of her parents.

Stan attended therapy after defeating IT, and he was getting better.

As a father, he was caring and a tad protective over his daughter—Patty knew that sometimes when she saw her husband leave the bed during the night, when Aviva wasn’t even crying, to find him standing next to her crib, watching her sleep, it was a concerning thing for him to do. And Stan knew this as well, but he couldn’t help it. Aviva meant the world to him, but at least he knew that his paranoia had to be discussed with his therapist.

So Stan was getting better, he was. Everyone was patient with him.

Two baby girls were welcomed to the world by their extended family. And no harm would come upon them.

When Bill’s movie of the new novel he began writing after Derry was released in November, the Losers got to meet the child actors that counterpart themselves and enjoyed an actual good horror movie of a group of kids beating the shit out of a monster that terrorized a small town.

Bill obviously projected his life onto his new novel—so maybe that could be the reason the ending ended up being praised this time.

Even the internet created memes about it.

They all spent the holidays together at Richie and Eddie’s, with a fusion of Christmas and Hannukah that ended up going well for both parties.

In 2018, Audra and Bill announced to his friends and family first and then the public world that they were three months pregnant.

With twins, nonetheless. And they decided to keep their genders as a secret—making everyone restless with anticipation and curiosity.

Summer came and went—Lydia and Aviva turned one-year-old.

George and Phoebe Denbrough were born in October, near Halloween. Bill couldn't stop gushing about his daughter and son. Naming his boy, that was six minutes older after his late brother had been something that even Audra wanted. 

Eddie finally convinced Richie to move to a more secluded house near the ocean. It was a beach architecture with a more modern lifestyle in the heart of Venice on Sunset Avenue. It had grand open spaces, stunning wood-clad volume ceilings that Eddie awed at, a spacious cook’s kitchen with modern appliances, an island with seating, and a separate pantry.

They also wanted a house where their friends could stay over during parties or reunions.

On the first floor, there was a guest suite with a separate entrance. On the second floor, two more bedroom suites and an exquisite master retreat that belonged to Richie and Eddie— including a spa-like bath, private balcony, and a large closet.

But the third floor was the level that exceeded all expectations. With a roof-top viewing deck, a built-in BBQ, amazing views, ocean breezes, and breathtaking sunsets that settled perfectly in the background as the honorary family would dine together during the warm, summer nights.

Richie was also about security. Besides the attached two-car garage they also had a fenced, gated, hedged, private yard. It was on the West of Lincoln and close to Rose Ave, Abbott Kinney, the famous boardwalk and the beach.

This house was definitely a wow factor for anyone.

Richie liked pampering his husband (even though he couldn’t say it to Eddie without receiving a gremlin-like glare) so he didn’t mind having a big house that didn’t exactly fit his previous lifestyle—if Eddie was happy so was him.

And as the months passed, the comedian began liking having the ocean as his neighbor. Eddie would go out at dawn almost every day for a jog on the boardwalk and when he’d return, Richie would make breakfast and always compliment Eddie’s choice of short-shorts that complimented his legs.

It was now two-thousand-nineteen, and Richie was preparing along with his husband to receive their friends on the annual Losers Club Summer Meeting they began hosting a year ago. And it was going to be even better this year with a larger house — he couldn’t wait to welcome everyone under his ceiling for a month.

Eddie was more anxious about baby-proofing the house since Lydia and Aviva—now almost two years old—and the twins (now nine months old) were coming to stay as well. Aviva and Lydia walked and knew what to not touch because her parents taught them--but the twins just recently took their first steps and they liked exploring, so Eddie was rightfully anxious about having four toddlers running around his massive house. 

They’d celebrate Lydia’s birthday here, and Richie reminded himself to ask Ben and Bev if Lydia liked clowns for her party.

Then he instantly regretted even thinking about the inside joke when he imagined Pennywise giving Lydia a balloon.

* * *

**July 2nd, 2019**

**7:22 PM**

Richie, with his undying need to affectionately annoy his husband whenever he felt their house was too quiet, was speechless.

The same Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier, who was known to blabber and comment on everything, usually with a quip, and that said jokes for a living. The same forty-three-year-old man who always felt like a teenager in love for the first time whenever Eddie kissed his neck, or nibbled his ear, or even when his husband just generally glanced his way.

He was a very easy man to please. And only a magic word could shut his trash mouth right away.

But as he left his fantastic bathroom after taking a relaxing bath in his spa-like tub, he suddenly felt a tug inside his guts as his blurry sight caught a short figure from the corner of his eyes. Richie calmly reached for his glasses by the short dresser and froze when a familiar face came into his view after putting them on—a kid who definitely didn’t belong here.

Not here, as in this house.

Here, as in this fucking year.

Thirteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak was staring at him fearfully, but he was as still as a statue—probably scared to even move.

Mini-Eddie had blinked and then found himself inside an unfamiliar, expensive-looking bedroom, but he wasn’t nervous about that, no, it was because as a kid, when he saw a middle-aged man, standing in front of him with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his naive mind went straight to the gutter.

The two stared at each other.

And he was speechless no more.

Richie screamed, high-pitch and all, running back to the bathroom and closing it behind him loudly. He was panicking, freaking out—and he didn’t care if he kept on screaming as if that clown was chasing after him again, in its stupid spider form and all. He thought this shit was over! _What the fuck! Is this a trick? Is that fucking clown alive?! But it hasn’t been twenty-seven years!! How did IT escape Derry? We killed that fucker!!_

“Rich?!!”

That was Eddie’s voice—his Eddie. And it sounded like he was running to inspect what happened.

No bueno.

“Richie?!”

That was Eddie’s voice—kid Eddie. And it sounded like he was just as shocked and disoriented as Richie was. He almost felt bad for him.

“Eds! Wait, there’s—” Richie tried to warn his husband, but when he heard the door of their suite open he cringed at the inevitable meeting.

“What the f—Who the hel—OH MY GOD!! RICHIE!” Eddie was confused as to why a kid was standing in front of his bed, but when he looked at his widened, scared, brown eyes—Eddie found himself recognizing them, his voice elevated into shrieking.

And quickly, Richie opened the bathroom’s door again, looking between his Eddie and mini-Eddie as he walked up to stand next to the one that had a wedding band on his finger, “You see him too, right?” the comedian hissed, not joking at all.

“Of course I fucking see him! He’s me!” Eddie whispered harshly, keeping his panicked eyes on his younger self as if he was scared it would jump on them if he averted them.

Thirteen-year-old Eddie, whose knees were shaking at this point, started backing away and used the long curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him to hide his body, “W-Who are you? Did you drugged and kidnapped me?” his voice was trembling, his head was the only part visible poking out behind the curtain at this point. It was clear that he was terrified.

They all were. This wasn’t normal.

“Ed—I mean, kid, listen, do you have any idea who we are?” Richie attempted to keep a calm voice, but all he wanted right now was to grab an object and chuck it at that kid to see if he was real.

“Of course I fucking don’t, old man!! Are you deaf? I just asked who you guys were!”

Richie winced, because yeah—mini-Eddie did ask. Maybe shock was the one throwing out stupid questions.

“Look, we don’t know how you got here but you have to calm down, Eddie, we’re not going to hurt you,” it sure freaked Eddie the fuck out to comfort his younger self, but if they were going to get any answers they all needed to chill for a second and get their heads straight.

Mini-Eddie glared at him, “How do you know my name? Huh?”

Eddie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a frustrated manner, “Listen. Eddie, I know this is… complicated and hard to believe but I’m you. And this naked idiot—Richie, why are you naked?” Eddie’s eyes widened comically at the sight of his husband's half-naked display.

“Uh? O-Oh, I just got out of a bath.”

“GO GET DRESSED FOR FUCK’S SAKE!! THIS IS WHY HE’S PROBABLY FREAKING OUT!” Eddie yelled at him with aggravation.

“OH?? REALLY?? SO IT’S NOT ABOUT HIM SUDDENLY BLIPPING OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE INTO THE FUTURE?!!” Richie yelled back, voice full of sarcasm as he stomped loudly towards the bed where his pajama set Beverly had gifted him last Christmas was sitting, he picked them up and stomped towards the bathroom now, avoiding looking at mini-Eddie, “OH GEEZ! MY BAD! I’M SUCH A FUCKING MORON!!” with one last childish jab, he slammed the door behind his back after entering the bathroom, feeling instantly embarrassed that the first thing mini-Eddie witnessed from the future was a classic Reddie (that’s what Ben called the couple) argument.

After catching his breath and distract himself by drying his body and getting dressed, Richie was now relieved to not be out there anymore. He didn’t want to deal with this shit—and he was patting himself in the back from not even feeling a drop of bile coming up from his stomach. Throwing up would be something that Richie used to do whenever he got too shocked or anxious—but that stayed in his life before killing that clown. And it was staying there.

So, he didn’t know how to act as soon as he left the bathroom. He could only hope Eddie was doing a good job calming down his younger self.

Or God help them both, mini-Eddie was not to be fucked with if he thought he was in danger. Richie still remembers the war screech he gave Pennywise after the fucker threw up on him when they first fought IT.

Outside, Eddie took a tentative step towards the younger one, raising his arms in a non-provocative manner and managing to hold a calm expression even after witnessing his husband behaving like a child, “Eddie, listen to me. I can prove to you that I’m you, from the future. Ask me anything, something that none of the Losers know.”

Mini-Eddie perked up at that, “W-Wait… how do you know about them?”

“It’s like I said, I’m you. I know about Bill, Ben, Bev, Stan, Mike, and Richie. I know about the clown—Pennywise,” that clown might be dead but Eddie’s mouth still soured just by mentioning IT.

Mini-Eddie’s mouth formed a small circle as his eyes widened, “H-Holy fuck… no way. Okay, I’ll play! Who was my first kiss?”

Eddie almost laughed at that, of course, he’d start with a tricky question, “First, tell me the date it was before you showed up here.”

He was wearing those infamous red-shorts that Richie never shut up about, but he’d use those shorts almost every day during that summer—they had been his favorite, after all.

His younger self nodded, finding that fair, “It was the fourth of July of ninety-eighty-nine,” he promptly clued.

“Oh…” Eddie smiled sadly as the memories started flooding his mind, “Then you still haven’t kissed anyone,” and now Eddie knew more about his mysterious appearance, “And you were with them at the Neibolt Street House, weren’t you?” he glanced at kid’s arm—it was not broken.

“I… fell. That leper he pushed me into that hole but…” mini-Eddie’s expression showed was of one that was about to panic, “This is a trick, isn’t it? Get away from me! Where’s Richie and Bill?! RICHIE!! BILL!!” he screamed, as if the corridor of that abandoned out was right outside the white-wooden door, “HELP ME!”

“Eddie! Please calm down!” the middle-aged man begged as a headache began forming.

Richie suddenly burst out of the bathroom, thankfully fully dressed, starling both Eddies, and he looked around frantically, “What’s the problem? I heard you scream my name!”

Eddie wanted to choke him, “It wasn’t me, asshole, it was him! You don’t recognize the difference between a kid’s voice with an adult’s?!”

Richie pursed his lips, and then gave him a sheepish look, “Well I…” he found the bravery to look at mini-Eddie, and then sighed, “Hearing one Eddie call for my help is enough to make me panic—sorry.”

Eddie’s hard eyes softened, and he was about to reach for his husband’s face when he remembered who else was in the room.

An Eddie Kaspbrak that still had no fucking clue he was gay and in love with Richie Tozier.

“Shit—we’ll talk later,” Eddie whispered gently at the other before turning towards mini-Eddie again, “Listen. We need to find out how you got here so we can think in a way to send you back. I know you don’t want to believe in us but—”

“Is that really you, Richie?”

Eddie made a face at the rudeness of being interrupted by himself—but at the same time he couldn’t be that surprised, he used to be a little shit and he was proud of that.

Richie, however, fought the urge to go grab mini-Eddie and hug him tightly when he heard that timid, hesitant voice address him.

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” the comedian confirmed evenly. And Eddie rolled his eyes at his husband's attempt to sound mature.

Mini-Eddie frowned, looking up at him, “Oh, yeah? Let me ask you something, old man, how’s my mom?”

Richie shrugged, grinning casually as he took the bait, “I don’t know, she might be tired from fucking all night with me.”

Eddie cringed because his mother was dead—but Richie needed to make a point.

“Beep—”

“—beep, Richie? Yeah, I know. Sorry, not sorry, it’s not my fault your mom likes big dick.”

Mini-Eddie was no longer hiding behind the curtains, but stalking towards Richie like a predator, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!! MY MOMMY DOESN—oh.”

Richie snorted at mini-Eddie’s brutal realization.

“As you can see, mini-me, Richie hasn’t changed at all,” Eddie commented dryly, almost sure that his younger self now believed them, “And honestly, do you think Pennywise could be patient enough to make all of this shit?”

Mini-Eddie’s hands began shaking as he covered his mouth to look around, “Oh—Oh _f-fuck_! Fucking fuck shit dick!! I wanna go home!! What year is this?!”

Richie dropped his amused smile into a concerned one, “Hey buddy? Breathe with me, okay?” he wasn’t inexperienced when it came to panic attacks. Besides him having them, he had to watch over Eddie during the first nights together. Nightmares would be the main reason to provoke them, and Richie lost countless of sleep because of his anxiety that his happy ending was just a lucid dream and that he was still stuck in the deadlights—his friends and his love all dead.

But it’s been three years, and he was fine. Everything was fine.

Except for this anomaly standing in front of him, shaking as the warm, Californian weather didn’t affect him. _Oh shit, has Eddie even been to California as a kid before?_

“I c-can’t breathe,” Mini-Eddie whined, covering his face now, “I can’t breathe—I need my inhaler!” he gasped, reaching for his red fanny pack.

Oh shit, that thing. Richie was shocked when he saw Eddie quickly reach for his mini-self, his hands stopping the thirteen-year-old from unzipping his fanny pack as he gave the kid a serious look.

“No, you don’t. Listen to me, they’re all placebo, Eddie. It’s all bullshit!”

Now it was Richie’s turn to be a reasonable adult, unfortunately, “Eds! What the fuck are you doing?! You told me you only found out about that before,” he glanced at a confused, but teary-eyed mini-Eddie, “…ya know, _that_ fight.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m trying to help him—”

“Don’t you remember ‘Back to the Future’? What if giving mini-you some ‘advice’” he air quoted that word just to annoy his husband, “Changes our future completely once he returns to the eighties?”

Eddie squinted his eyes at the man he said ‘I do’ to, “Rich. Are you suggesting that a movie represents this situation? Because if you are, then you’re out of your mind,” he wanted to say ‘I’ll divorce you’ but he managed to catch his words before barfing them in front of a frightened kid that came from a town were the word ‘faggot’ was casually thrown around and you’d be dead meat if they even suspected that you liked the same gender as yours.

“But what if it’s true, though?!”

“That’s s-stupid,” mini-Eddie commented, and he sounded both amused and exasperated, “Stan said that it doesn’t work like that. If my past changes then I’ll probably just create a different timeline from this one—not change this one.”

Richie and Eddie shared a look at the random statement, and both of them thought ‘ _well at least he doesn’t look like he’s about to cry anymore’._

“Look,” Eddie tried again, moving his hands away from the fanny pack, “My point is, you don’t have asthma. Or anything serious, really. It’s all fake, invented by our mom to keep us in a straight line.”

“Too bad it backfired on her fatass, right Eds?” Richie snickered.

“Beep fucking beep, Richie!” Eddie hissed, giving him a look and scared that his younger self would be curious about his statement.

But mini-Eddie was always more attentive about his health, “I don’t have asthma? But… I’ve been taking this inhaler for years! Surely I would’ve gotten side-effects from taking the wrong medication!”

Eddie looked sad now, feeling sorry for himself from depending on his mother’s words and believing in her lies, “It’s water with a taste of medicine. Nothing else, it’s all in your head.”

Mini-Eddie gave him a look of complete horror and anguish, and it was like suddenly everything made sense. It was like he’d always knew the truth but sheltered himself from it to make his mommy happy.

It was bullshit. His life was…

Perhaps dropping the bomb on his younger self hadn’t been a logical choice, especially when it happened so quickly. But least Richie recognized the expression of an Eddie about to lose his conscious from being too overwhelmed—and he managed to catch the smaller boy before he could hit the carpet.

“Jesus Christ, Eds…” Richie sighed, giving his husband a concerned but stern look, “I warned you. This could be bad.”

“Or… good,” Eddie said as he gave his unconscious self a watery smile, “Fuck. Maybe… maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” panic crept onto him as Richie lied mini-Eddie on their bed, “Maybe we shouldn’t have even told him who we were! I mean, how is he gonna handle the fact and you and I…” he looked up at Richie, who was standing in front of him, his big hands gently pressed against his shoulders to keep him still.

And Richie, he gave him a look of slow realization, “Shit. I forgot about the repressed sexuality thing—that’s gonna be a shit storm,” he looked at his husband in alarm, “Eddie, baby, we can’t tell him about us—at least not yet. He’ll freak out, won’t he? Won’t… you?” Richie ended that on a confused tone, “You know yourself better than I do, what do you think?” he gave him a teasing smirk that meant no harm.

Eddie couldn’t help to smile adoringly at the idiot, “You asshole. Of course, I’ll freak out. I’m thirteen. I watched and heard Bowers go after kids that he thought were gay—”

“Like me.”

Eddie nodded but gave him a daring look if he thought about interrupting again, “ _Yes_ , Rich, like you. What I’m trying to say is… that maybe if we show that the world is now more openly accepting about LGBTQ people maybe he’ll realize it sooner. And he won’t be like me, a fucking idiot that only discovered my true self at the age of forty.”

Richie smiled warmly and rested his hands on Eddie’s lower back now, bringing him closer, “You’re not a fucking idiot, Eds, we were under the influence of that fucker’s induced ignorance. Even I, who pathetically had to tell every show that I had a fake girlfriend to avoid rumors, don’t feel that bad about not realizing it sooner. It makes sense, in a fucked up way, that the spell could only be broken from love at first sight—”

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes as a smile effortlessly formed.

“Don’t laugh! I waited for twenty-seven years for my prince charming and you laugh?? It’s fucking tragic,”

“Like Romeo and Juliet?” Eddie asked, humoring his husband.

Richie beamed at him, “Hell yeah babe, but without the dying part. Fuck that.”

Eddie chuckled, but when he looked at his mini-self, resting on his side of the bed (he wondered if Richie did that on purpose or just did it subconsciously) with a peaceful expression as if a chaotic meeting hadn’t just happened.

“Rich? We have to tell the others. They’ll be here in two days, what are we gonna do?” Eddie felt Richie’s hand slightly shake as his husband slowly slithered them inside his shirt. There was one thing that Richie still carried from childhood, he was always finding ways of casually touching his skin. Either if it was to initialize sex or just to hold him while they watched television after a rough day of work—Richie always felt better when his skin was touching Eddie’s.

“Uh… yeah,” Richie pulled him closer, and Eddie quickly wrapped his arms around the taller man’s torso as they embraced, “Well, we could help mini-Eds adjust first,” he suggested while resting his chin on his husband’s head, “I mean, we can’t just call them right now and expect them not pack their shit and get here as fast as they can.”

Eddie was attracted—for reasons he couldn’t and refused to fathom—to Richie’s foul mouth and quips, but when his husband managed to sound mature and reasonable, Eddie would practically give the man heart eyes and hope that Richie would get the message.

Not right now, of course, not with his fucking younger self in the room.

So he took a deep breath, and talked, “Your point, honey?”

Richie let out a content sound from the back of his throat just from hearing Eddie genuinely use a pet name with a sweet tone, “My point is… they promise their jobs at least one more day. And think about Leeds and Avi, they’re in their terrible twos and we couldn’t let them go through be suddenly on a plane without any form of calm preparation, remember what Stan said?”

_Aviva is a little afraid of closed spaces, she weeps at the sight of the airport._

Eddie hummed, understand now, “Okay. Yeah, you’re right—fuck. Let’s go with your plan then.”

“Great!” Richie pushed Eddie backward only enough to look at his face, “How difficult can be to show a kid that came from the eighties how much the world has changed?”

Eddie paled, “Very, especially when that kid is me.”

“Whoa, Eds, don’t downgrade yourself like that…” Richie mumbled as he frowned.

“It’s not that—” his eyes kept widening, “Richie, what if paparazzi sees us with a kid out of nowhere? What are we gonna do?!”

Richie closed his eyes and briefly waited for his brain to come up with something.

It didn’t happen.

“Well, fuck.”


	2. You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to note that I have learned two things while writing this chapter:
> 
> That the supermarket ‘Whole Foods’ is expensive as hell and that there is no such thing as the ‘godparents’ concept in Judaism. I almost did a mistake! Good thing I doubted it and researched about it :)
> 
> Jewish readers, please tell me if I ever make a mistake about your religion! I would be so horrified if I ever offended anyone with my story! I promise to try and do my research but no one is perfect!
> 
> I may warn you: It's 5am when I finished this chapter and even though I had three cups of coffee this chapter might have a few spelling mistakes that I will cringe over and fix quickly as soon as I wake up tomorrow. I hope you still enjoy it though, thanks for your support <3
> 
> PS: I changed the story's title! Ii was named "Losers, Meet the Losers"

**July 3rd, 2019**

**3:22 AM**

Shortly after agreeing to help mini-Eddie adapt to the twenty-first century, both men were beginning to slightly regret keeping their relationship a secret.

The kid had been out for a long time, and Eddie didn’t realize how much of a heavy sleeper he was until he observed his younger self not even stirring when Richie carried him to one of the guest rooms—the nearest one to their suite.

They felt immoral for doing it, but for his own safety, Richie and Eddie resolved to lock the door in case mini-Eddie woke up during the night and decided to try to escape.

Putting away any indication that they were married or in a relationship was emotionally exhausting for both men. Taking off their wedding rings was the worst part and Richie desperately almost convinced Eddie that it was not necessary but both knew how perceptive the younger mild-neurotic boy could be. Their wedding photographs within beautiful frames gifted by Beverly two Christmas ago were all now inside a box—along with their rings and more pictures of them kissing, holding hands or solely with their arms around each other.

Soon what was left were group pictures of the Losers that made the married couple pass as only friends.

It devasted both of them that this might’ve been the last night that they could share a bed until they found out about the reason for mini-Eddie to be here and solved the way to send him back. So they enjoyed it as much as they could—cuddling closer than usual after recognizing that neither had sex on their mind with mini-Eddie sleeping across the hall.

Good thing they did because after making sure every evidence across their house about their marriage and relationship was hidden away in a place where mini-Eddie couldn’t discover—even by accident—they heard banging from the room they had locked mini-Eddie inside.

“LET ME OUT YOU FUCKERS! THIS IS KIDNAPPING!”

Richie sighed, clearly annoyed that he was awakened startlingly, “Your turn to check on the baby,” he grumbled, voice still raspy just waking up from his sleep.

Eddie glared at him as he shoved the blankets from _both_ their bodies spitefully, but sometimes he couldn’t help to wonder if Richie would ever say that and actually mean it as if it was real—for there to be a real baby to check on. They were forty-three years old and they have been together for three years—no conversation about becoming actual parents has been brought up. Even when their friends were all having babies, Richie didn’t say anything about wanting to be a father.

But Eddie… couldn’t stop pondering about it. He was always sensitive about a topic related to his mother, he didn’t really mind when Richie made jokes at her expense, but internally Eddie was afraid that if he ever had a child he’d convert into Sonia Kaspbrak.

But by how the circumstances were going, Eddie inwardly pretended to not care. He was content with just having Richie—but all the empty rooms inside their house were becoming holes in his heart.

At least they would be all filled with friends in days.

And one of them had a kid with too much anger for his age.

Eddie sighed, tapping Richie’s thigh, “C’mon, let’s go calm him down.”

The banging continued, “LET ME OUT OF HERE!” mini-Eddie was starting to become hysterical, and that was enough to make Eddie and Richie widen their eyes comically.

They had neighbors.

Both middle-aged men hurried out of their bed and from the bedroom as fast as their old backs and legs allowed and when Richie, with his long legs, was the first to get there, he quickly unlocked the door and swung it open, startling mini-Eddie inside and making him scamper across the room, leaving the bed he had previously been sleeping on as a separating wall between them.

“FUCK YOU!” he spat at them immediately, doe eyes ablaze with fury and brows set in an attempt to look intimidating.

“Aw, that’s cute,” Richie cooed, and Eddie almost elbowed him in the ribs right there if it wasn’t for the situation.

“Look, Eddie—”

“What happened?!”

Eddie was slightly affronted when his younger counterpart interrupted him for the second time, “You fainted. I think it was from shock or because you got overwhelmed. Do you remember anything we talked about?” he inquired calmly.

Mini-Eddie wilted a little under his tone, and he looked at the carpet thoughtfully before nodding with some visible reluctance, “I remember everything. About the gazebo—”

“Placebo,” Richie corrected, slackening when he realized mini-Eddie was done screaming.

The thirteen-year-old gave him a puzzled look followed with a glare before he continued, “—and that I’m… in the future? And that you’re me, and that dipshit next to you is Richie.”

“Hey!” the unruly haired man complained, inwardly indifferent at the offense.

Eddie gave his husband a tiny smile before glancing at his younger self again, “Okay, so—we’re cool? We just want to talk to you. I know it’s late but if you’re hungry we can fix something for you, and talk in the kitchen or in the morning. Whatever you want.”

Mini-Eddie blinked as he heard his apparent older self speak fastly, “Oh… uh… I’m actually sleepy,” he admitted sheepishly. There were a lot of thoughts running across his mind and Eddie did want to ask them a lot of questions, but it late and his mommy always told him that he needed to sleep at least eight hours or he could get migraines.

“Oh that great, we’re sleepy too!” Richie simpered, about to hold Eddie’s hand before stopping himself and pretending to cover his mouth for a yawn instead.

Eddie sighed apprehensively, knowing that Richie couldn’t last minutes before craving for some physical affection—not exactly sex, but for innocent-like touching like hand-holding or cuddling, just reassurance that he was real and still with him. It might sound silly but they went through a lot and Richie still had nightmares that all of his blessed life that has been happening for the last three years was just a cruel trick that the deadlights were projecting onto him—as if he was still caught under them.

Richie’s biggest fear was waking up in Pennywise’s lair and realize that the past three years never occurred. And Eddie knew this by the continuous night terrors his husband endured years ago—not so much now, thankfully, but Eddie would never forget the nights when he was awakened in the worst way possible—by hearing Richie’s anguishing cries that still plagued him to this day. Eddie would comfort him and his husband would instantly relax under his arms, shaking and sobbing and venting about what he saw during his sleep as Eddie spooned him.

The two vowed to each other to never keep secrets that could affect their mental health or their relationship—and even though Eddie was somehow breaking it by not mentioning he wanted at least to have a serious conversation about considering adopting a baby—he was thankful when Richie began seeing a therapist. It’s been exactly a year and two months ever since Richie suffered from thesleep disorder that caused them both feelings of panic or dread. Nights were calmer, Eddie was still the big spoon.

The risk analyst had nightmares, too. But Richie had it worst, he was exposed to the deadlights and the vision of witnessing Eddie being impaled from behind, mid-celebrating, had traumatized him for life. But he was getting better, day by day.

Eddie was so scared that the presence of his younger self would’ve triggered Richie, but when he observed his husband sleeping peacefully under his arms hours ago and didn’t detect any signs of discomfort during his slumber, Eddie was relieved.

“Eds?”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie said automatically, with a monotone voice as he still followed after his trail of thoughts.

Mini-Eddie looked between the two as if he finally accepted the ugly truth about his whereabouts and the identity of the two people standing in front of him.

Richie smiled tiredly, looking at the kid with a fond expression, “Alright kid, time for bed. Just promise us you won’t try to run away, it would be dangerous and we’re not in Derry so—”

“Where are we, then?” mini-Eddie promptly asked, a curious look in his brown eyes as he glanced at the window—it was dark outside so he couldn’t see even if he wanted to.

Instead of being slighted by the interrupting like his husband, Richie’s simper widened, “Venice, Los Angeles.”

“Holy shit!” mini-Eddie gasped, seemingly excited, “I’ve never been to California!!” he exclaimed, slightly giddily.

Richie and Eddie couldn’t help to genuinely smile at his reaction, true, this might be a strange situation but mini-Eddie’s child-like reaction was a breeze of fresh air—even though he was, technically a teenager.

“Okay buddy, hop on the bed and we’ll talk better tomorrow. Maybe we might show you around town,” Richie proposed, motioning with his chin towards the bed when mini-Eddie peered at him again when he spoke up.

“Really?” mini-Eddie asked sheepishly. He felt a little embarrassed by displaying such a childish act in front of (presumably) his older self and Richie. It wasn’t like he didn’t believe them—he fucking did. He was so sure that dipshit that stood taller than any adult that he’s ever seen was Richie, but he couldn’t help to feel his stomach drop at a question that kept floating around his mind. _Why is Richie and I living together in the future?_

Mini-Eddie might be nervous about the answer, and to make it worst he could hear a voice on the back of his head ridiculing him from not comprehending the reason. But, he didn’t even attempt to ignore how happy and relieved he felt when he realized he was still, at least, Richie’s friend when they’re both older. That made him genuinely less afraid of growing up old if Richie was by his side, making his life less miserable with his trashmouth and presence.

Eddie nodded, feeling weird that he was reassuring a version of himself that still had a lot to grow and learn, “We’ll see,” he didn’t guarantee anything. And he’d scold Richie for giving such promises when he knew about his celebrity status.

What the hell were they going to do if media caught them roaming around with a thirteen-year-old? Richie oughta know better. But, at the same time, Eddie couldn’t blame him, because now that the peculiar situation had settled down into a calmer state, Eddie also desired to tell his younger self everything that could prevent him from going through a rough time and help him be more confident about his actions and happier—including the sensitive subject of being gay without even recognizing it because of the fear of being judged and beaten up in that hillbilly town—preventing the young teen from accepting his feelings towards Richie.

But for now, he was going to takes things slowly. Because Eddie knew how he was when under pressure and panic—a fucking fidgeting mess that spoke at a speed that only the losers could understand. Or how Richie liked to sweetly state: a short-tempered gremlin.

And also, he was thirteen years old. And fuck, being that age was already a mess. So Eddie promised himself to take mini-Eddie’s age a consideration first before speaking. He hoped Richie would do the same.

“Okay… I’ll go to sleep, then. But, don’t lock the door! I don’t like that shit…” mini-Eddie’s voice became small as he averted his eyes onto the carpet, going through a bad memory, “I’ll be good just… don’t lock it, okay?” he said while making his way back to the bed.

Eddie’s eyes widened, and he felt like shit, “Jesus-–fuck. Of course, how could I forget?” he turned towards Richie with a horrified expression, “My mom used to lock me in my room if I disobeyed her too much—remember?”

Richie withered under Eddie’s look as he recalled Eddie calling him late at night, sobbing and telling him to come get him because his mom had locked him inside his room and she wasn’t allowing him to go out—he remembers the many time he’d perform a rescue mission by helping Eddie climb out of his window safely into the ground—and how he always had to force a joke or two to cheer Eddie up, when truly all he wanted was to cry as well because Eddie didn’t deserve the abuse.

Richie turned to mini-Eddie with a serious expression, the one that meant he wasn’t fucking around as he spoke up, “We won’t. We promise, mini-Eds, we’re so sorry…”

Eddie nodded, “Yeah man, we just didn’t want… you to go out there, thirty years into the future without any knowledge of how much the world has changed,” he was doing his best to sound apologetic, he genuinely felt disgusted from repeating an action that has made him suffer as a child.

Mini-Eddie looked at them surprised, frozen when he was about to climb onto the bed. He wasn’t expecting them to look so dismayed and he was starting to feel guilty about it, “It’s whatever, I’m fine,” he assured them through a calm smile, “Now go away, I want to fucking sleep and I won’t do it if you two stare at me like two creepy dipshits.”

Richie let out a, what he called, grown-up sigh—filled with tiredness and heavy with responsibilities—and managed to grin back, a little forcefully but the sentiment was there, “Aight no need to call us out like that, we’re about to dip up outta here. Cool your jets, chillax and—”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Richie shut the fuck up and just go before I force you,” Eddie told him exasperatedly, getting second-hand embarrassment from Richie’s attempt to sound cool.

Richie let out a guffaw as they heard mini-Eddie snort, lying down on the bed quickly and covering himself before they could see his amused expression.

“Ah! And they said my shit isn’t aimed at kids—”

“Beep beep, _fucking_ go!”

Richie didn’t mind when Eddie pushed him out of the room, he was laughing from feeling sleepy and because he wanted to. And from the corner of his eyes, he saw Eddie trying his best not to smirk at his antics.

They went to bed without any arguments, but both feeling on edge and agreeing to wake up early—before mini-Eddie—to avoid the kid seeing them spooning together in the same bed and have a breakdown because Eddie wasn’t stupid or as naive as people claimed him to be.

Richie and Eddie were going to have to watch out and quit being so handsy around each other.

Which would probably end up not working—at all.

Probably.

_Definitely._

* * *

**6:30 AM**

“Jesus fucking Christ Eddie, do we need to be up _this_ early?!” Richie groaned, arching his back on the mattress for a long stretch as the alarm from the expensive-looking phone on Eddie’s nightstand blared into life, waking up both men at the same time.

Eddie, who wanted to agree with his husband—especially when they were perturbed from their sleep just three hours ago—sighed into the air, “We have to, honey, before mini-me wakes up, remember? Our lovely creepy-ass situation sleeping in the next room that has no idea he’s gay for his best—”

“All right, _fuck_ , I get it!” Richie interrupted quickly, turning towards his side of the bed to press his face on his pillow like the pouting man-child he could be, “Not fair though! He gets to sleep late!” his muffled voice complained childishly.

Eddie turned his head, missing Richie’s warmth under his arm, to give his husband a fond expression, “I know, but the adults have to do the responsible thing now and Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“You need to fucking shower, honey,” Eddie stated, chuckling when Richie let out a loud groan that was thankfully stifled because of his pillow.

“I took a bath yesterday!”

“Shower. Now.”

“Only if you join me.”

“Richie!”

They eventually compromised by Eddie promising him to prepare his favorite breakfast while Richie showered. So, Eddie made the bed as soon both left it, feeling melancholic that one of them (they haven’t decided) wouldn’t be sleeping in it tonight with the other and getting dressed quickly by donning denim jeans and a dark grey polo, he didn’t bother to put some shoes on but he did put on some socks and then his house slippers before walking out of the room to check up on himself.

God, why did he feel so weird about it? His head quickly made him think that there could be a possibility of him doing this in the future, with his own kid. And if that didn’t freak him out, he didn’t know what it did. This earning began when Stan had his daughter and made Richie her guardian—a decision that no one was offended about--Stan was still alive because Richie decided to call his house three years ago.

Aviva wouldn’t be here without Richie, so it made sense when Stan and Patty chose him to be her legal guardian in case of their death.

Eddie was Phoebe’s godfather, and Mike was Georgie’s.

But obviously, he didn’t want to become a father by having them fucking die.

His stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought.

Eddie pushed the door slowly and peeked into the room from behind it, he saw a child-sized bump under the covers on the bed where his younger self was currently sleeping on and sighed a sigh full of relief before stepping back into the hall again while pulling the door with him—not fully closing it.

He went downstairs, and after grabbing the universal remote that controlled every security tech and everything else and clicked the button to rise every motorized blinds and shades from every window downstairs to let the early morning sunshine engulf the lower floor, another thought crossed his mind as he sauntered towards the high-tech kitchen.

_What if the others start showing up as well?_

It didn’t make sense if it was only his younger self, and if it did then he was at loss why. Maybe this could all be a fever dream or maybe he was in a coma and imagining all this shit.

Eddie was just making excuses at this point.

He decided to distract himself by preparing breakfast for his young self and his husband. God—he felt like he was preparing it for his own kid. It was creepy in a sad way that he allowed himself to feel this way. Did he want a kid this much? How was he supposed to bring the conversation up to Richie with his kid self roaming around their house?

He grabbed the organic classic pancake and waffles mix and began the methodical process of making pancakes enough for him and his younger self—then, he grabbed the bacon package from the fridge and the carton of eggs and chopped the bacon into smaller pieces, because Richie loved eating scrambled eggs with bacon scattered around and a lot of shredded cheese on top. And Eddie liked to put a little thyme on it instead of salt, they had a cabinet full of seasoning flasks so why not use them?

Then he turned on their Posame Electric Coffee Maker and dumped Italian roast powder coffee in it, making sure it had enough water before he pressed the button for it to start pouring.

He was done with the cooking when it was seven-thirty and as he placed the last plate and glass on the countertop of their kitchen’s island, he heard steps too heavy to belong to a child coming down the stairs.

Richie waltzed in, wearing a mustard-colored v-neck t-shirt and black jeans—and all Eddie wanted was to pamper his neck with kisses and hickeys.

_Self-control, dipshit._

“Damn! It smells really nice in here,” Richie beamed, wrapping an arm behind Eddie to kiss his cheek softly, lingering for a second before smiling when Eddie gave him a mild stern look.

“Richie…” he warned.

“I know, I know… keep my hands to myself. But, he’s asleep! C’mon Eds, we have to use affection without fear whenever we can, I will literally die if I can’t kiss you good morning, or feel or hand on mine, or hug you—”

“I get it, yeah,” Eddie cut him, swiveling his head to have a better angle to press a kick peck on his husband’s lower lip to shut him up, “ _I get it_ ,” he repeated, whispering hoarsely—and Richie gave him a sultry look.

They were about to pounce on each other like horny teenagers when they heard light steps coming down the stairs.

They parted ways so abruptly that it gave Richie a slight whiplash as he scrambled to stand on the other side of the island, leaning against the countertop in a forced casual way as Eddie prayed he didn’t look too much out of breath or flushed as he thought he looked.

“Hey!! There he is! Mini-Eds, you woke up early, man!” Richie greeted the kid loudly, enough to make the teen’s shoulders jump a little when he realized where the voice came from.

Mini-Eddie had his usually side-combed hair unruly and Eddie inwardly cursed for not thinking about giving his younger self at least a piece of more comfortable clothing for him to sleep with. He was still using the same blue t-shirt and khaki shorts that he wore when going into the Neibolt Street house.

“I need a toothbrush,” mini-Eddie promptly replied, eyeing the pancakes on top of the island with hunger, “Is that for me?” he followed quickly, not giving the men to even think about his first statement.

Eddie groaned as Richie nodded.

“Sure buddy, but don’t touch my eggs,” the comedian half-seriously told him, receiving a challenging look that he grew up adoring from mini-Eddie as he walked closer to the kitchen and then hopped on top of one the tall stools surrounding the island.

“You’re not my dad,” mini-Eddie snarked as he grabbed his fork and impaled it on two pancakes at the same time, putting them on the place ahead of him and cutting pieces quickly.

The two men decided to sit down and eat as well before they were called creepy by the thirteen-year-old again for staring. Richie scooped half of the scrambled eggs from the frying pan into a bowl and began devouring it and Eddie placed a pancake on his place and filled his mug and Richie’s as well with coffee—a domestic moment that they were used to, but that made mini-Eddie pause mid-chewing when he witnessed it.

“Sugar?” Eddie asked offhandedly.

“No, thanks,” Richie replied, stuffing his mouth with more eggs.

They continued eating, not noticing the startled expression on mini-Eddie’s face. He looked between the two before speaking up.

“Why are you two living together?”

Eddie didn’t choke as Richie did, he simply paused his fork mid-air towards his mouth to glance at his younger self with panicking eyes.

Richie pondered if this was a good time to fake a heart attack. He did star in movies before so he might get away with it.

But realistically speaking, he would not.

“Uh–well, we’re roommates!” Eddie spluttered, plastering a smile that was meant to be casual—it came off as toothy and forced as his eyes cried for help when he glimpsed at Richie.

Richie nodded quickly, “Yep! That’s it, that’s the tea. We’re roommates,” he shoved a fork filled with scrambled eggs to prevent any more word vomiting.

Mini-Eddie heeds them both with a suspicious expression, but when he relaxed and shrugged, both men tried not to show too much relief as they feared his next words.

“Oh. Okay… that’s, cool,” he scrunched his nose, frustrated again, “Wait—none of us got married? Or at least found someone to live with? How old are you guys, anyway?”

“Forty-three,” Richie promptly told him, hoping that would change the subject.

Mini-Eddie’s eyes widened before he giggled amusingly, “Ho-lee shit! I’m in two-thousand and nineteen?! That’s fucking insane, dude! Wait until Rich—” his demeanor dropped as he realized that he was on his own here, with no one to gush about how cool this was.

Mini-Eddie was suddenly not hungry anymore.

Richie, who noticed his face droop, leaned into the countertop to give the teen a concerned expression, “Hey buddy, are you okay?”

Eddie watched the interaction, chewing on his pancake but not really focusing on the flavor.

“No?” the boy began slowly, before completely exploding, “NO! I’m _not_ okay! This is so _fucked_ up! Am I gonna be here forever?! What if I never see my friends _again_??! What if they’re already here but they’re lost?! What if I never go back, uh? W-What if…” mini-Eddie’s eyes glimmered dangerously as he held back his tears, “What if I never see…” he didn’t get to finish that sentence, because he began full-on sobbing, cupping his hands over his face as he hiccuped through his weeping.

Richie and Eddie were quick on their feet, placing each their hands on one of the teen’s shoulder.

“Hey buddy, take a deep breath…” Richie began, voice soothingly. He hated seeing his Eddie like this, even as a kid, whenever Eddie cried in front of him, Richie would do anything to stop those tears falling from his beautiful doe brown eyes.

“Eddie, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay—we’re going to fix this,” Eddie reassured his younger self with a soft voice, making a very dangerous promise that could end up not becoming true at all. He was just really uncomfortable seeing himself cry like _that_. He had no idea he looked smaller and even more vulnerable when he cried, so—all Eddie wanted to do was hug the kid and make a thousand promises just to calm him down.

He was losing his mind over this. It was all so weird and unnatural--he was starting to become protective over himself. Maybe because he saw mini-Eddie as a version that didn’t exist anymore—a form of himself that still obeyed his manipulative mommy; took his placebo medicine like a champ and was hilariously ignorant about his sexuality out of fear and confusion.

Eddie then realized, he ached to comfort his past and promise that everything was going to be okay. That it was all going to get worse until it got perfect.

“I wanna go home,” mini-Eddie sobbed pitifully, drawing his hands away to reveal his flushed face and teary eyes.

Richie was swift when taking a napkin from the counter to gently press it around and under the thirteen-year-old's eyes, wiping the tears away as mini-Eddie subconsciously leaned into it.

He used to do this a lot—whenever Eddie cried in front of him when they were kids.

Richie learned that Eddie had everything inside his fanny pack to ensure that no one got an infection if they ever scraped their knees or got bitten by a bug—but the neurotic boy never seemed to remember to carry tissues with him. It was ironically funny. And the thing is, Eddie began “forgetting” about bringing tissues on purpose so he could have Richie carry some around—to wipe the tears away from his eyes and appreciate every time his finger brushed against the freckles on his cheeks and linger more than necessary.

It was all very, absurdly, confusing. But at least it was a good moment that the boys mutually unspoke about. 

“Technically, this is your future home,” Richie quipped weakly as he dried his eyes.

That earned a faint chuckle from mini-Eddie, it was more like an exhale through his nose followed by a restrained smile.

“Asshole,” the teen whispered good-naturedly, tears not sliding down cheeks anymore.

 _Mission accomplished_ , Eddie thought, smirking proudly at his husband because fuck yeah, he still got it.

Richie succeeded at sending him a surreptitious wink without the sniffling boy noticing.

Mini-Eddie promised them he was fine after a few seconds, and the adults returned to their seats after Richie discarded the wet napkin into the garbage bin under the sink.

They resumed eating, and Eddie checked the time on his phone to see it was twenty past eight, time flew by quickly. In other circumstances, Eddie and Richie would still be in bed, enjoying their vacation, waking up late and preparing everything to receive their friends tomorrow—but now they had to arrange a plan to how were they going to tell them without causing everyone a panic attack. 

Surely, the losers would believe in them.

Eddie was more concerned about Patty and Audra. The two women who didn’t fight a shapeshifting clown and that were down to earth. It was going to take a lot of convincing and evidence—they would surely think that this was a prank at first. That the losers were all on it.

They needed to be straight-forward and serious about this—and then, they would all have ice cream together and think about a plan.

* * *

**3:34 PM**

Mini-Eddie was baffled the fuck out at all the high-tech surrounding him.

He was currently watching television, feeling like a king for having a spacious L-shaped couch to himself as he watched a funny cartoon on a screen that was so flat and wide that he almost thought about the similarities of a movie theater—but smaller.

Richie, smartly, put the Cartoon Network channel on and let mini-Eddie experience ‘Adventure Time’. The kid was watching the re-run episodes in a trance that allowed both adults to talk more privately about their next move.

“We should call Mike,” Eddie proposed as they hid away in his office, “Mike is like—a historian and he was a librarian, he must know some shit about time traveling.”

“No, sweetie, remember we promised to wait for them to arrive?” Richie recalled, looking at his husband worriedly.

Eddie began pacing in circles around the room, stressfully rubbing his knuckles together in a pensive disposition, “I know but—fuck, Richie! We can’t expect them to arrive here and be totally normal with ‘surprise, my younger-self somehow blipped his way from nineteen-eighty nine and now we gotta deal with this’!”

Richie rolled his eyes at his mocking tone, “Look—you may have a point but you know damn well if we call Mike and tell him about this fuckery, he’ll call everyone else. And soon, in less than fifteen hours, we’re gonna have a losers club meeting right outside our door!”

Eddie shushed him, “Keep your voice down, dumbass!”

They both quieted down, and mini-Eddie seemed to be oblivious to this discussion.

“Richie,” Eddie continued, walking towards him now and looking up with those pleading doe eyes Richie could not resist, “We can’t do this to them. Especially with Stan he—” Eddie paused, gulping dryly, “—they need to be prepared. Bill and Stan need to find a way to convince their wives and—oh shit, what about the babies? Will they even care? They’re too young to understand, right? They won’t even remember this, right, Richie?”

He was rambling—taking too fast. Eddie felt his heart racing and he was starting to feel dizzy, he couldn’t breathe—he thought about his inhaler.

But then Richie gently cupped his cheeks between his hands, giving him a calm expression, “Breathe…”

Eddie instantly closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on his touch, obeying him as he tried to level his breathing.

_Inhale…_

_Exhale…_

_Inhale…_

_Exhale…_

“Better?” Richie questioned softly, stroking Eddie’s cheeks as his body slightly wither under his touch.

“Fuck…yes…” Eddie sighed, feeling his heart return to its normal beating, “Sorry,” he sheepishly added, opening his eyes again.

“No, Eds, never apologize for panicking,” Richie stated urgently, eyes tearing up, “We’re both old fucks that have too many mental problems but at least we got each other, and we promised to never apologize for being vulnerable.”

“Chee… c’mere,” Eddie uttered tenderly as the taller man bent down to give him a proper hug, “It’s okay. You’re right, we promised. Sorry for apologizing,” he quipped lightly, earning a weak chuckle from his husband that sounded mildly like a sob as well.

It seems that the stress was finally dropping on their hands like a bucket of cold water—they needed to act, fast.

“I love you,” Richie softly says.

“I love you, too,” Eddie easily retorts.

They decided to tell Mike but to make him swear to not tell anyone about this.

They separate, missing their warmth. But it was time to be more serious about the situation. After witnessing mini-Eddie cry, they realized that this was taking a huge emotional toll on him as well—fucking duh. It was like they forgot the kid actually had feelings. For the kid’s and their own sake, they hoped this little time-traveling adventure wouldn’t ruin their lives.

Richie dials Mike’s number and rests the phone against his ear with a tired expression, a meme he remembered seeing on Twitter crosses his mind and he can’t help but snort at it.

“What is it?” Eddie asks, glancing back from the doorway to see if his younger self is still paying attention to the television.

“Ah shit, here we go again,” Richie tells him, not being able to help himself even if he wanted to.

And Eddie glares at him, “Dude, are you gonna be this way the entire fucking—”

“Mike!” Richie sobers up, plastering a friendly grin meant to the voice on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck :( 
> 
> I just realized by deleting this empty chapter to publish the official one I deleted some of your amazing comments. I'm so sorry!


	3. Road To Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for taking nearly 6 weeks to update this story. I’ll try to update it at least once a week from now on. 
> 
> I did some editing on Chapter 2 because yikes, it had some mistakes. Feel free to re-read it to catch up because I also added some words to it!
> 
> Don’t forget that Los Angeles is 3 hours behind Florida. I know some of you might already know it but I don’t want anyone getting confused! You didn’t time travel as well :)
> 
> Also, the fact that there’s a place called ‘Eddie’s Italian Restaurant’ in Venice, California.
> 
> i- 
> 
> I found out about this while searching for restaurants on UberEats in Venice—pure coincidence. 
> 
> Obviously your girl had to use it. 
> 
> PS: AO3 was acting up when I was posting this so I'll come back tomorrow to edit the mistakes I probably did (it's 3am rn and i'm tired)

**West Palm Beach, Florida**

**Hanlon Residence**

**7:04 PM**

At first, Mike didn’t believe Richie.

Why would he? After all, the comedian liked to joke around and throw a few quips here and there, even in the Losers group chat Richie didn’t act like an adult, and they were used to it because well—it was Richie!

But when Mike received a phone call from Richie and Eddie, that ended just twenty minutes ago, he knew something was up. They might be middle-aged adults, but even the Losers rarely called each other—sure, they used FaceTime—but a phone call was for serious conversations. Mike practically invented that rule within the group.

Richie phoned him. And Mike was promptly concerned before he plastered on a simper and picked up the call with a light, amicable tone. He was not anticipating Richie to tell him that thirteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak had suddenly materialized in Richie’s and Eddie’s residence, out of nowhere.

No, Eddie didn’t go from forty-three to thirteen years old.

Their adult Eddie was still around. Alongside an Eddie that Richie had fondly labeled as ‘mini-Eddie’—to avoid any confusion.

Obviously, Mike’s first instinct was to laugh because well, he thought Richie was joking. But then Richie’s phone was on speaker and Eddie’s serious tone made Mike sober up immediately.

_“It’s true, Mikey, we’re not kidding,” Eddie told him solemnly, “We don’t know how he got here. And why. We’re freaking out because what if it might be It’s doing? He doesn’t remember much, but we know he blipped on the fourth of July, exactly when we went into Neilbolt—when I broke my arm. But this Eddie’s arm isn’t broken, he said he fell through the hole—the same hole that I fell into—and instead of landing on the floor, he landed on our bed.”_

Eddie had delivered his speech fast and firmly, and Mike knew right away he was being authentic—Eddie rarely lied. Trust is very important between the Losers, they were a family. Even when they joked with each other, they would never go too far—everyone would laugh about it.

This was no gag between the married men towards the Losers.

Pennywise was dead. The scars were gone to prove it—Mike knew this. The historian felt it. So it made no sense for both Richie and Eddie to come up with this situation out of nowhere. Mike knew they would never fool them about something so severe, especially if it could cause panic amidst the Losers.

So, reluctantly, Mike chose to believe them. He trusts Richie and Eddie, but he dearly hoped this wasn’t something that could escalate to a much grave circumstance.

It was difficult not to tell the others right away, they shared no secrets (this serious) and it made Mike feel guilty about keeping it—but he promised Richie and Eddie he wouldn’t inform the others. The two husbands required time to develop a straightforward but brief explanation for when the others arrived at their house. Mike knew they could do it, but that didn’t solve the problem of getting mini-Eddie back to his year.

He started Googling about time-traveling, and of course, he didn’t get a serious answer right away. The internet could be misleading. But there was a site that piqued his interest as he began scrolling down the article on it.

* * *

**Time Travel: Theories, Paradoxes & Possibilities _  
_**

**_Time travel — moving between different points in time — has been a popular topic for science fiction for decades. Franchises ranging from "Doctor Who" to "Star Trek" to "Back to the Future" have seen humans get in a vehicle of some sort and arrive in the past or future, ready to take on new adventures. Each comes with their own time travel theories.  
  
The reality, however, is more muddled. Not all scientists believe that time travel is possible. Some even say that an attempt would be fatal to any human who chooses to undertake it._ **

* * *

Mike scowled at the rest of the useless information he read. But it was the most he got since other sites he clicked on had people claiming to have been kidnapped by time-traveling aliens, random wormholes, Quantum physics…

None of them had even a theory about unexpected time travel. And Mike recognized this was a possibility since the human race isn’t advanced enough for that—yet.

Still, it was frustrating.

He sighed deeply, rubbing his tired eyes from staring at his laptop’s screen for too long. Mike decided to take a break and return to his research later.

He prepared some chamomile tea and after he completed the methodical process for it, Mike took his mug to his bedroom and turned on the television for some background noise as he settled the mug on his dresser and arched his back to stretch out his muscles.

For now, Mike would enjoy his cup of tea and watch some television while trying to think of a solution—whilst mentally preparing himself to see a young Eddie Kaspbrak again.

He almost smiled at the idea, if only it wasn’t so fucked up.

* * *

**Venice, Los Angeles**

**Kaspbrak-Tozier Residence**

**4:12 PM**

“Well, that went well,” Richie commented dryly into the air.

“Oh, yes. It was such a nice conversation!” Eddie retorted sarcastically, cupping his hands over his face to hide his annoyed and anxious expression.

The air was tense around Eddie’s office, both men were quiet for a solid five minutes, letting the phone conversation sink in before Richie crossed his arms over the tight feeling in his stomach, making him desperately open his mouth to say the first thing that his brain decided to vomit out.

 _Better than to actually throw up,_ he thought.

“Eds, at least he believes in us,” the comedian attempted, soothingly resting his hand over his husband’s shoulder, “Do you know how crazy we fucking sounded? This is good.”

God bless Mike Hanlon.

Eddie looked at him, despondently, “Good? Rich… what if this is a bad sign?! What if…” he trailed off his words, hesitant to say what he was thinking.

Richie was pretty sure his heart sank when Eddie didn’t correct him immediately on the nickname, “If?” he pressed, trying to not sound like he wasn’t attempting to hold down the bile trying to make its way up.

Eddie sighed, resting his head on his husband’s broad chest, “What if this Eddie is here because he died on a different timeline?” he meekly suggested.

The ache increased as Richie’s eyes widened comically at the mere idea, “Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie, you can’t possibly think that??” It had been traumatizing enough to watch his husband be impaled by IT when he was caught in the deadlights—but if he found out that there was a world where his younger self had to watch his best friend and crush die before the two could even properly hit puberty, Richie deems he would never recover from that, no matter how much therapy and alcohol he’d drink.

The shorter man looked up with watery eyes, “It could be a possibility. Maybe… we should ask mini-Eddie more about what he was doing before skipping thirty years ahead in time.”

Richie gave him a desperate look, “Eds, we already talked to him about it. All that kid remembers is falling down the hole on Neilbolt—before he— _you_ , broke your arm.”

“I know! But—”

“Sweetie, he doesn’t remember _anything_ else. For all we know, he didn’t even _trigger_ it! He would’ve told you, mini-Eds _trusts_ us now. And I’ve known you since we were seven years old, once you trust someone you rarely lie to them,” Richie continued quickly, cutting his husband’s attempt to repudiate on the topic.

Eddie pursed his lips into a tight line, and as his hands began to shake, he cupped them over his face and rubbed his eyes tiredly, “Shit, what are we gonna do now?”

Richie shrugged almost casually, “Wait for Mike, I guess.”

Eddie gave him an exasperated look, “We can’t simply put everything on Mike’s shoulders!! That’s selfish!” he exclaimed, horrified at the thought.

“I’m not saying that!” Richie defended, rolling his eyes, “I’m just trying to diffuse things for a little bit—maybe when we’re all together we can come up with a better solution!”

_We’re stronger together._

Eddie’s frustration deflated, but he remained mildly skeptical, “You _really_ think that?” he asked quietly.

Richie grinned, nodding, “Babe, that’s how we killed that fucking clown.”

The other stared for a few seconds before exhaling briefly, acknowledging the new solution while quickly wiping the wet from his eyes, “Okay, you’re right. Fine—we’ll wait for Mike and the others.”

“Atta boy! See? We have a plan now, all we have to do is make sure mini-Eddie is comfortable until tomorrow—and not too overwhelmed from the technology!” Richie jubilantly said before slapping his husband’s behind.

Eddie yelped, punching his arm in retort, “Watch it, dickhead! He might’ve seen that!” he scolded quickly.

“Dude, he’s too busy watching cartoons with an animation that he has never seen before, that little dude is gonna be busy for a few—”

“Excuse me?”

Richie let out a shriek while Eddie turned around to look at the office’s doorway like a deer caught in a headlight. Mini-Eddie was standing there, his face shyly peeking inside as the door was ajar. He seemed hesitant about walking inside, no one could blame him.

“Mini-Eds!! Jesus—warn a guy next time you decide to creepily not make any noise while walking!” Richie cried, his hand resting on his chest in an attempt to calm down his heart.

The teen looked guilty for a moment before he shrugged it away, “I called for you guys, not my problem you live in a big ass house.”

Richie let out a sarcastic ‘ha-ha’.

Eddie, who was already smiling tensely, clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking again, “Sorry, mini-Eddie, we were so immersed in our conversation that we didn’t hear you,” he explained quickly, “Do you need something?”

Mini-Eddie nodded, “I need a toothbrush and… new clothes. Also, can I shower before dinner? I feel gross,” the boy said as he looked down at the clothes he wore and slept with since yesterday, scrunching his nose with disgust.

“Right, come with me, kid,” Eddie’s mind began working right away as he walked out from his office, giving enough time for his younger self to move out of his way and trail after the man.

“So I guess I’ll just follow as well?” Richie grumbled into the air like an old man before pursuing the two Eddies.

Eddie Kaspbrak always had spare, unused toothbrushes kept neatly inside the cabinet under the sink of the guest’s bathroom—just in case. He proudly felt a sense of self-reliance when the inevitable ended up happening and Eddie couldn’t help but smirk smugly at Richie after he handed mini-Eddie a toothbrush, as a reminder of his teasing about having too many toothbrushes for nothing.

Richie rolled his eyes knowingly as mini-Eddie quickly began the methodical process of brushing his teeth—the adults dispersed from the bathroom to give the boy some personal space and Eddie could feel his husband’s eyes on him as he closed the door behind him.

“Okay, Eddie, it seems like your toothbrush collection did come in handy after all,” Richie admitted with a patronizing tone, “You changed the world!”

“Fuck _you_ ,” Eddie hissed at him, grinning because he still felt victorious over it, “Make yourself useful and go grab one of your sleeping t-shirts a pair of my jogging shorts,” he ushered at him as they stood in the corridor.

Richie raised an eyebrow, “Kinky, but babe, I don’t think the time is appropriate,” he quipped lightly while giving his husband a lustful look.

The other scowled deeply, _“Richie!”_

The comedian fucking _giggled_ before rushing down the corridor to get the clothes from their bedroom—and Eddie, although he pretended to be annoyed, gazed affectionately as his eyes trailed after his goofy husband.

He was about to open the door again to check on his younger self when the doorknob opened on the other side. Mini-Eddie pulled the door open and was slightly startled when he saw his adult self already standing on the doorway.

“Uh… I’m done brushing my teeth.”

Eddie smiled, “Good. Richie went to grab you some new clothes for you to shower, you can just give me the ones you’re wearing and I’ll wash them right now so you can have them for tomorrow.”

Mini-Eddie nodded as Richie began walking down the corridor, a black t-shirt folded neatly with a pair of red shorts. Eddie rolled his eyes at his husband’s choice of color because of _course_ , he’d go with red. Richie saw this and grinned innocently as he handed the folded clothes towards mini-Eddie, who accepted them with a confused look.

“What’s this?” the kid asked.

“Well, you don’t expect us to have kid clothes in this house, do you? That’s the best we can get for now,” Richie replied, his eyes gleaming from amusement and mischief.

Eddie mentally chocked him.

“But… aren’t you going to show me around? I can’t go out like this…” mini-Eddie mumbled disappointedly.

Both grown men shared a look full of panic. Eddie knew that what Richie had told the kid last night was going to bite them back in the ass. They couldn’t blame the kid—he’s never been to California and he sounded really excited at the idea of going outside to explore the surroundings of the bohemian beach city.

“Mini-Eddie, listen,” Eddie began with a careful tone, “Richie is kinda famous—”

“—kinda?!”

“—and sometimes, paparazzi follow him around. If they saw us walking with a kid no one has ever seen before, that would raise a lot of questions that we aren’t prepared to answer yet,” Eddie continued, pressing his voice to sound serious to make sure his younger self understood their situation, “You understand that, right?”

Mini-Eddie looked at him, and then Richie with awe, “You’re famous?”

“Fuck yeah I am!” Richie boasted proudly. And Eddie smiled at that because Richie deserved to be proud of his accomplishments.

Mini-Eddie’s surprised look drooped into a defeated one, “Okay, I get it. But I still wanted to look around for a little while—I’ve never been outside of Maine so…”

Richie took pity in the kid, he couldn’t help it—he could never resist Eddie’s doe eyes, especially if they looked sad, “Tell ya what buddy, you take a shower and put those on and when the laundry’s done, we’ll take you on a short walk by the boardwalk.”

“Rich…” Eddie sighed, knowing that this was a bad idea.

Mini-Eddie observed the two expectantly as they began bickering about it.

He recognized that his grown-up self was just being cautious but the more he gazed he saw glimpses the ocean outside this house, the longer he felt stuffed inside this house. He comprehended this wasn’t the equivalent as being locked inside his bedroom by his mom—no, this was surreal for both parties. Being here, thirty years into the future, was everything but ordinary and mini-Eddie didn’t want to ruin the men’s lives just because he was being a brat about desiring to go sight-seeing. He wasn’t a tourist here, he was a problem. He needed to realize that once and for all.

His hold around the folded clothes tightened as mini-Eddie was about to open his mouth to speak when his older self beat him to it, ending the continuous argument between Richie.

“Okay, _fine_! But we’re going out for thirty minutes and we can’t bring attention to ourselves!” Eddie asserted with a tired tone, “Luckily for us, the boardwalk will be packed with tourists so we might blend in well,” he added with a grumble. He didn’t want to be the bad guy in front of his younger self, he was just trying to preserve the life that they established. It took both Richie and Eddie a lengthy time to get here, and all that effort couldn’t be ruined because of one time-traveling surprise.

Richie beamed triumphally at the teen, “What are you waiting for? Take your clothes off and leave them,” he pointed at the clothes mini-Eddie was wearing, “here on the corridor’s floor.”

Mini-Eddie paled at what Richie was implying, and Eddie almost facepalmed at his husband’s choice of words.

“Explain it better, dipshit!” he snapped before looked at the kid with a calmer expression, “Sorry, you know how he is,” mini-Eddie managed to grin, “What Richie meant was, we’ll go downstairs to give you so space so you can shower and I’ll come back in ten minutes to pick up your clothes from the floor. That way they’ll wash faster and we will be home before dinner.”

“Isn’t that what I just said?” Richie quipped while sheepishly shoving his hands down his jean’s pockets to give mini-Eddie and apologetic smile.

“No, asshole, you made yourself sound like a pedophile—again,” mini-Eddie deadpanned lightly, letting both adults know he wasn’t serious—he was just messing around.

“Again?! Jesus fuck,” the comedian looked terrified, “I need a snack or something, you two are draining me out.”

Richie walked away and both Eddies heard him descend the stairs with loud steps, Eddie almost rolled his eyes again at the childish act.

“Is he… seriously mad?”

Eddie glanced at the kid and was astounded at how vulnerable he sounded. But then he remembered that when he was thirteen, he behaved differently around adults. With the Losers, Eddie was comfortable enough to be himself and say what he thought without feeling anxious about being reprimanded. Whenever he was around grown-ups, Eddie was polite and only spoke unless he had to answer a question.

“No, he’s just being an idiot,” Eddie stated quickly, offering the bot an easy smile, “Do you need something from me before I leave as well?”

Mini-Eddie seemed pensive for a moment before speaking up, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows at the way he phrased his reply, “What do you mean? You’re not a bother, mini-me.”

“Really? You guys started arguing because of me and—”

“Okay, I’m going to stop you right there,” Eddie interrupted, “Richie and I bicker all the time, you _do_ know that, right?”

Mini-Eddie shrugged, “Sure, but we’re never serious about it.”

Eddie sighed heavily, “Yeah, well, you’re _kids_. We’re _adults_ , so our arguing seems more severe than it is.”

That seemed to have comforted mini-Eddie, “Oh. Really?” his father died when he was five years old, and there’s not much he remembers about him. Mini-Eddie always heard that sometimes parents would have a serious argument and he never really understood that because all he had was his mother, “So, you guys are cool?”

The other snorted, “Yeah little guy, we’re cool,” they were more than that, actually, “It takes a lot for me to be really pissed off at that asshole—and you and I both know that Richie has been like this since ever, and we like him anyway, right?”

Mini-Eddie nodded, smiling, “We do.”

 _More than you’d know_ , Eddie thought sadly as he managed to smile back.

“But there’s no fucking way I’m ever telling him that!” the kid added quickly, making his adult counterpart laugh.

* * *

**4:44 PM**

After taking the tension off the teen’s shoulder, Eddie left him to shower and went downstairs, where he found Richie sitting on their L-shaped couch, eating from a bag of pretzel crisps they got from Whole Foods. Eddie quietly plummeted himself to sit next to his husband, and Richie’s arm was instantly circling his shoulders, bringing him closer as he kept on watching ‘The Witcher’.

Eddie leaned his head on Richie’s shoulder in response and sighed as they cuddled together. It felt so nice to be able to do this in their own private house, Eddie knew it was going to be tough but the number of times he had to hold himself back from hugging or kissing his husband today was ridiculous.

Richie felt the same way, he was milking this moment as long as he could because he knew that as soon as he heard the shower being turned off upstairs they would have to separate each other as if it was their secret.

Their _dirty little secret._

He wasn’t going to lie, having to sneak around and not being able to express his feelings for his husband freely was starting to deject his demeanor.

He spent twenty-two years pretending to be a heterosexual man, scared of what the world may think and hiding being a façade with relationships that never lasted more than three months; always with a hole inside his heart that not even the loudest applauding and cheering after a show could fill.

But then Mike called, and he reunited with Eddie and the Losers. His true family—the ones that genuinely loved him for he was.

The hollow gap in his heart was filled, and Richie changed for the better. Everyone was shocked when he did an unexpected three-sixty with his life three years ago. He came out, Eddie moved in after divorcing his wife, they started dating two months later, they got married a year later and everything was going well. He had a job that he liked, the man that he’s been in love with since ever as his husband, a supporting fandom—and he was just two minutes away from a Starbucks.

Richie felt like it was all too good to be true.

Alas, he hated that whenever he was right it had to be about something bad.

The worst part wasn’t having mini-Eddie around, no, that was self-explanatory—the thing that was eating him was that the empty feeling had returned. There was a hole in his heart and he had no idea for what reason. Because Richie knew he had everything he ever wanted—so why now? Why that after feeling blessed for three years, the feeling was back?

Richie was torn about talking to Eddie about this. He understood he’d feel much better if he did, but words wouldn’t form out of his mouth.

“You know, mini-me really thought you were upset after you stormed out like a demented child.”

Eddie’s sudden statement brought him back from his deep thinking, and Richie blinked as he let it sink in.

“Oh, shit, really?” he mustered out worriedly.

He heard the other hum while nodding, “It’s okay though, I told him that we still bicker all the time—even as old men,” Eddie looked up to send him a small smirk that made Richie’s heart melt.

“Aw. You’re fucking adorable.”

“Richie.”

“Seriously, I forgot how cute you were as a kid. Were you always worried like this every time we had our little flirting sessions?” Richie purred, kissing the side of Eddie’s head and lingering, feeling his dark hair tickle around his nose.

Eddie huffed, “We didn’t even know how to flirt when we were thirteen years old, dumbass,” he replied, “And if you really want to know, yes, sometimes I was scared I’d taken things too far with my insults. But then you’d prove me wrong and I would feel relieved,” he admitted quietly.

Richie put his snack away to use his other arm to engulf his husband on a tight embrace, “Cute, cute, cute!! That is so cute! I’m going to fucking die—I can’t believe my Eds was afraid to hurt my feelings, I’m so soft right now!” he raised his voice into a high-pitch purposely to annoy his short partner.

Eddie, of course, struggled right away while yelling indignantly, “Let go of me!! Don’t call me cute, the _fuck_??! I’m a grown man how many time do I _hmf_ –”

Richie decided now was a good idea to shut the beginning of Eddie’s rant by pressing a hard kiss on his lips. The other reacted as usual whenever Richie suddenly kissed him like this, Eddie went completely weak as he huffed into Richie’s mouth, angrily and passionately kissing him back as fiercely because he had been interrupted—again.

They parted away to breathe and gaze at each other’s eyes.

Then, Richie pulled Eddie against his chest, capturing his lips again in a hungry kiss, flicking his tongue against the seam of Eddie’s mouth until it opened for him. He brought his hands to Eddie’s back, sliding one up through the silky strands of his hair, pulling him even harder against his desperate lips. Richie tasted faintly of pretzels as Eddie kissed back messily, hands gripping Richie’s shoulders as he began grinding down onto his lap.

Both men’s hands grabbed at each other’s clothing, pulling their bodies closer as they deepened the kiss—but when Eddie felt Richie try to push him down on the couch to do more than a make-out session, he broke the kiss and pressed his palm over his husband’s mouth.

“Rich... we can’t,” Eddie lamented, his hooded eyes contradicting what he just stated.

Richie whined and gently moved the hand off his mouth, “But Eds—” Richie’s eyes were wild, desire writ across his face, and it would take a stronger man than Eddie to turn him down.

“I know, _trust_ me. I want to have sex with you, but we can’t,” Eddie told him wistfully, emphasizing what he meant as he gestured towards their staircase, “I have to go do the laundry, anyways…” he drawled, forcing his body to stand up from the couch, immediately missing Richie’s warmth and touch.

Richie let out a groan and scrubbed his eyes, “Fuck!!! What am I supposed to do about my boner, then?” he asked with a hopeful look as Eddie made his way around the couch.

His husband shrugged, “Watch the TLC channel, that’s what I do if I ever want to lose one.”

And Richie did that—boner quickly lost when an episode of ‘Dr. Pimple Popper’ was on.

* * *

**6:22 PM**

Mini-Eddie had received his clothes washed and dried ten minutes ago and he was now inside the guest bedroom he had woken up in the middle of the previous night. He was going to dress up, but he was too busy staring at himself in the body mirror standing next to the dresser.

Richie’s AC/DC black t-shirt was so oversized on him that it reached his knees, covering the red sport drawstring shorts from his grown-up self that managed to fit around his waist because of the cord.

He looked ridiculous—but he had to admit it felt comfortable, and he’d rather sleep with this outfit than with his own t-shirt and khaki shorts. He turned around and marched towards the bed, where the pieces were folded neatly, waiting to be donned onto him.

So, Eddie changed clothes and quickly put his shoes on. He wished he had a comb to neutralize his messy, wet hair instead of using his fingers but Eddie could be resourceful sometimes, so he didn’t complain while doing it.

He was ready to go, but Eddie found himself staring at his reflexion with a frown. Eddie’s been in the future for twenty-three hours now, and while the tension between him and his and Richie’s adult selves has subdued, he still thought about his friends all the time. He missed them so much, and Eddie wondered what happened after he vanished—did something even occur? He had no idea, none of this shit made any fucking sense!

Sensing himself panicking, and he reached his fanny pack to grab his inhaler—only to realize that he wasn’t even wearing it.

Eddie started searching for it everywhere, under the bed, in the closet, dresser, and he even returned to the bathroom outside in the corridor—but he couldn’t find his grey fanny pack.

“You okay, buddy?”

Mini-Eddie let out a shriek when he heard Richie suddenly speak behind him, the man was standing on the bathroom’s doorway, giving him a confused look.

“Whoa, I know I’m ugly but—”

“Where’s my fucking fanny pack? I need my inhaler!!” mini-Eddie wasted no time in approaching Richie with a desperate look, “I—I’m having an asthma attack!” he wheezed.

Richie placed his hands on the kid’s shoulders to steady him, “Wow, okay—calm down buddy,” he turned his head to look down at the corridor, “EDS! COME HERE, QUICKLY!” he yelled with an urgent tone.

Eddie rushed towards them, looked at Richie worriedly before glancing at his younger self, “What’s wrong??”

“I need my fanny pack, I can’t find it!”

“Oh, I hid it.”

“You what?!” both Richie and mini-Eddie screamed, making Eddie take a step back.

“Why the fuck would you do that?! I need my inhaler right now!” the kid shrieked while letting out a couple of scattered wheezes.

“Yeah, Eddie, what the fuck?” Richie pressed, lost to why his husband would do something like this to himself.

Eddie however, didn’t look guilty. But he did raise his hands as a gesture of peace, “Listen, you don’t need it. I explained this to you, remember? It’s all bullshit—”

“IT’S BULLSHIT THAT COMFORTS ME!” mini-Eddie screeched at him, still being steadied as Richie’s hold on him tightened slightly.

His outburst shocked both men, and their stunned silence allowed mini-Eddie to continue.

“I know! Okay?! I fucking get it, it’s bullshit, it’s not real—I’m not _fucking_ sick!! I remember, I do! But I still _need_ it, it _calms_ me down!! I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, I know it’s not a _fucking_ asthma attack but I need to think it is so the _fucking_ inhaler works and calms me the fuck _down_!! I’m losing it here you selfish fuck! I-I-I’m thirty years into the fucking future, my friends aren’t here and all I have is you two to depend on!!” Eddie screamed, tears already streaming down his cheeks as he glares at his older self, “So… so p-please… give it back. It’s the only thing I have left from where I came from,” he begged weakly, no longer shouting this time as he became desperate, “Please…”

Richie could feel the thirteen-year-old shake beneath his steading hands, and the urge to pull him for a hug was consuming him. He whipped his head towards his husband, who looked ashamed and astonished at eruption his younger self just exploded on them.

“Eddie, give him the inhaler,” Richie firmly said.

His husband nodded and quickly walked away, towards their bedroom. And when he left, Richie crouched down to level up with mini-Eddie.

“Okay buddy, let’s breathe. In and out, slowly, ready?” he began exercising an inhaling and exhaling motion when the kid nodded, signalizing he was listening to him.

The two began sighing simultaneously, mini-Eddie visibly calming down as he matched his breathing with Richie’s steady one.

Slowly, he began to calm down. And when Eddie returned with the fanny pack, mini-Eddie snatched it from his hand and quickly unzipped it, seizing the inhaler from inside and promptly bringing it to his mouth. He pressed the spacer down and breathed in the medicine that came out from it into his lungs.

The reaction was almost instantaneous. Mini-Eddie took another hit from the spacer before he took the inhaler out of his mouth to hold his breath for five seconds—then, he exhaled deeply, relief all over his face.

“You good?” Richie asked worriedly.

Mini-Eddie nodded, before glaring at his older self, “I know you mean well, but don’t do this ever again.”

“I won’t,” Eddie assured at once, still feeling guilty.

The two adults watched as the kid strapped the fanny pack around his waist after putting the inhaler inside, Richie retreated his hands from his shoulders when he moved to walk out of the bathroom, away from them and towards the stairs. It was silent for a while before Richie sighed.

“You have to make things easier, Eds, slowly. You can’t just expect him to grow out of his inhaler just like,” he snapped his fingers, “that. Even you struggled with it when we returned to Derry three years ago.”

Eddie rubbed his knuckles together anxiously as he nodded, avoiding Richie’s disappointed eyes, “I know, I just thought… he’d forget about it while he was here.”

“You? Forget about your fanny pack at that age?” Richie let out a humorless chuckle, “C’mon Eds, you’re not _that_ naive.”

“I get it, okay! I’ll apologize!” he snapped with a desperate expression, “It was a stupid fucking move on my account, I get it!”

“Nah,” Richie began, casually, “The stupidest move you made was marrying Myra, but go off, I guess.”

“I will fucking kill you,” Eddie threatened, but he smiled nevertheless, thankful that Richie wasn’t upset about his action anymore.

Richie grinned, “Now, pip-pip and tally-oh my good fellow! I do believe we have an inpatient chap downstairs, waiting for us!”

“Oh Jesus, not the British guy, not now.”

* * *

Mini-Eddie was completely bewildered in a good way when his eyes witnessed the site of funky shops, street performers and colorful murals for the first time in his life. Everything was so lively in Abbot Kinney Boulevard, and he has never seen so many foodie hot spots, stylish boutiques, and coffee bars in one block.

Oh, and the modernist homes that surrounded him were something straight out of a movie.

The east side of the wide concrete boardwalk was lined with souvenir shops, restaurants, and residences. On the other side, colorful locals and tourists assembled in an orderly lineup of conspiracy theorists, freaky fortune-tellers and polished performance artists.

“If my mommy was here, he’d call them all gypsies,” mini-Eddie commented as he walked between his older self and Richie while staring at fortune-teller.

Both men were wearing hats and sunglasses to conceal their appearances, and when Eddie heard this, he scoffed loudly.

“First of all, that’s an offensive word to say. Secondly, your mom isn’t here so relax,” Eddie told him lightly, glad that the kid didn’t resent him for what he did.

So mini-Eddie tried that, he kept an open mind as he explored the boardwalk with the two adults, surprised when Richie was hit up for tips by two performers. The comedian assured the teen that is was perfectly safe, and fun, explaining that everyone's got an angle and an agenda, and many of them are just trying to make a quick buck.

Walking ahead, mini-Eddie was awed when he saw a guy who “walked” on glass, the chainsaw juggler, a turban-wearing roller skater with an electric guitar and a guy who painted himself gold from head to toe (and did a perfect impression of a robot, in mini-Eddie’s opinion).

But what fascinated the teen the most was that almost everyone had their eyes glued onto their cell phones. When they passed by a group of kids his age, he noticed two girls dancing in front of a phone, laughing together, and when he asked about it Richie said that they were probably doing a TikTok.

That confused mini-Eddie even more, but he’d ask about it later.

They walked until the crowded Venice Beach and allowed mini-Eddie to run freely on the sand, towards the ocean, while they tried to pace after him. Of course, Eddie told the kid to be wary of jellyfishes, which made Richie laugh.

Eddie was sheepish about it—but then his mind wandered and he began imagining if this was their own kid he was fussing about. He tried not to think about it since they had a lot to worry about. But when Eddie was doing the laundry, he stared at the teen size clothes with wonder—imagining that he was taking care of his son’s clothes. That was one of the reasons he couldn’t wait to have his honorary nieces and nephew at his place. Now that they were by themselves and his younger self stood by the edge of the ocean, seeing it for the first time, Eddie cleared his throat, bringing Richie’s attention.

“So, uhm, there’s something I wanted to talk about with you.”

He felt his husband’s shoulders tense a little, as someone would react when someone suddenly says ‘we need to talk’, “Oh? What’s up, honey?”

Eddie found himself losing his courage as soon as Richie looked at him with a nervous smile, “Uh—so, I’m not really in the mood for cooking so I was wondering if you still have your UberEats app.”

Richie visibly relaxed, letting out a loud, relieved chortle, “Of course I still have it, I'm a lazy ass, remember?”

Eddie nodded, “Good, then let’s use it for dinner.”

“I can’t wait to see mini-Eds reaction!” Richie giddily said as he watched the kid run away from a wave before it could wet his shoes.

His husband smiled, but without reaching his eyes, “Yeah, I can’t wait either.”

After the thirteen-year-old got tired of evading the waves and was starting to dislike the feeling of sand inside his shoes, the three left the beach and Eddie told them it was time to go home because instead of being outside for thirty minutes they have been out for almost an hour—and he was starting to look around, paranoid over catching a paparazzi snapping photos of them.

* * *

**8:23 PM**

**Kaspbrak-Tozier Residence**

“I can’t believe you ordered from a place called ‘Eddie’s Italian Restaurant’,” Eddie complained before taking a bite from his _Ravioli a la Checca._

They’ve been home for forty minutes now and food had been delivered by UberEats. Mini-Eddie had been amazed by the possibility of having food delivered to a house other than pizza—and he got to try a new dish. He opted with ordering _Spaghetti Carbonara_ and he was enjoying it very much—his mom would’ve never allowed him to eat something with this much sauce. Richie got a medium pepperoni pizza and a small portion of _Spaghetti with Meat Sauce_ and both Eddies had sneered at the exaggeration of food Richie was consuming—although he did give them each a slice of their pizza, that was the main reason they didn’t complain about it.

They were having dinner by the kitchen’s counter again, but this time the television was turned on so they could have some background noise or just simply watch the current channel.

It was all quite peaceful until Richie suddenly gasped and pointed at the teen.

“I just realized it! That’s cannibalism!” he accused urgently, holding back a grin.

Even Eddie looked confused for a moment before he closed his eyes with defeat when he understood what Richie was doing, “Rich…”

“No! It is, isn’t it! Eddie spaghetti is a cannibal!”

Mini-Eddie, who’s perplexed expression shifted into an annoyed one, almost tossed the nearest object towards Richie, “Shut up! Don’t fucking call me that, dipshit!”

“Wow! For someone who isn’t an Eddie spaghetti, you sure sound defensive!” Richie laughed, quickly dodging a kick delivered by mini-Eddie under the island counter, “You’re a mini Spaghetti! Oh my God,” the comedian suddenly had an enlightened expression, “I think I might call you that.”

Eddie didn’t hold back his amused chuckle before he received a glare from his younger self.

“What the fuck are _you_ laughing at?!” he shrieked with a betrayed expression.

That led Richie and Eddie to laugh even more.

“Jesus fuck! I forgot how loud you were as a kid,” the unruly haired man teased out loud, before taking a bite from his slice of pizza.

Eddie stopped laughing to give him a faux glare, “Ah, ah, eat shit you fucker. You were even louder than me!” he stated, punching his husband’s arm lightly—in an affectionate way.

Mini-Eddie took the opportunity of Richie’s distraction to finally kick the adult on his knee, “Yeah asshole, you never shut up! We had to invent a fucking phrase to make you silent—and it rarely worked!”

Richie groaned, not knowing which hurt more, his arm or knee, “Okay, I came out here to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

“Just eat your food,” Eddie chuckled, sharing a victorious glance with his younger self.

“Yeah, yeah, so no one is going to point out how unfair this is? Two Eddies against one Richie?”

The mood around the three was lifted and amicable as they continued eating, sometimes mini-Eddie would ask them questions about the future and the two adults had to be careful with their answers if it involved their marriage. Richie finally explained what TikTok was, but even though the teen tried his best to understand it—he was left a little disoriented anyways. He didn’t even know what an ‘app’ was.

After dinner, while Eddie put the dishes inside the washing machine, Richie and mini-Eddie sat down on the L-shaped couch as the comedian taught the kid everything regarding the technology inside his cellphone. He showed and explained about what Youtube was and even watched a few videos in it with mini-Eddie.

Hearing both of them laugh at probably a TikTok compilation (Richie might complain about the app, but Eddie knew his husband secretly watched a lot of those compilations to understand millennial humor better) made Eddie smile warmly.

Once again, he could picture Richie holding their child on his lap while viewing Youtube videos. And Eddie would snap a photo of them, post it on Instagram to make everyone jealous of his family—but that was only a dream he was too hesitant about bringing up to Richie because of the fear of being rejected.

“Oh my God!! I thought that only happened to me!” mini-Eddie suddenly exclaimed, laughing while pointing at the phone’s screen, “Also holy shit, I still can’t believe how amazing the camera quality is!” the kid added with an out of breath voice.

Eddie couldn’t help to chuckle at his younger self’s enthusiasm.

When mini-Eddie was accustomed to how to use (at least) Youtube, Richie left his phone with the teen and met with his husband by the kitchen, carrying a mischievous smile.

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it,” Eddie warned him with a wary but hushed tone so his younger self couldn’t listen to them. Luckily, the teen seemed focused on the videos showing up on the screen instead.

“I wasn’t thinking anything, Eds,” Richie whispered casually, giving him an innocent smile.

Eddie closed the washing machine’s door and turned it on, starting the cycle, “Richie…” he continued, suspicious when his husband started to stalk towards him, he glanced at mini-Eddie with panic when he felt his big hands resting against his hips, “Rich!! Are you _fucking_ kidding me?!” he hissed with panicked eyes as he tried to pry the hands out of his body.

Richie actually pouted, “I just want a platonic hug with my roommate.”

“Richie!”

“It’s not gay if you say no homo, bro.”

“I swear to fucking God—”

Richie chuckled and pulled Eddie towards his chest while cradling his head, and the other allowed it by stopping his struggling, but his eyes were still watching mini-Eddie to refrain the kid to witness a definitely not platonic hug between two men.

Especially when Richie’s hand started to slide down, towards his ass.

Eddie quickly pinched it away and gave him a warning look, but his husband only waggled his eyebrows in return, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious. Eddie, having always to be the mature one in the relationship, was beginning to grow genuinely exasperated—and not in a fond way. Richie might’ve sensed his husband’s irritation because he had the decency to look sheepish before he stepped back, with his arms in the air as a surrendering act.

“Sorry, please don’t bite my head off,” Richie begged weakly, biting his lower lip to avoid grinning too widely.

“Fuck. You,” Eddie mouthed at him before turning his attention to his younger self, who was still distracted by the Youtube videos, “Hey, mini-me, at what time do you wanna go to sleep?”

“Uh?” the teen said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Oh boy,” Richie mumbled.

Eddie rolled his eyes and walked closer to the couch, “I asked, at what time do you want to sleep?” the man repeated, a little louder.

“Wait, let me finish this video I can’t stop watching these!”

“You can pause it, buddy,” Richie pointed out, walking to him quickly and pressed the pause button on the screen.

“Holy shit! I didn’t know that!”

“Anyways—can you please answer the question?” Eddie pressed quickly, growing a little impatient.

“Uh, oh! Sorry!” mini-Eddie quickly apologized, giving him a sheepish look, “I don’t know, I’m getting tired right now? Mommy always tells me to go to bed early so I can have eight hours of sleep.”

Richie scoffed, “Not that getting eight hours is wrong but, it’s summer. You should sleep late and wake up late, ain’t nothing wrong with that for a kid on summer vacation,” he nonchalantly said as Eddie checked the time on his digital wristwatch.

“It’s almost nine, you wanna at least get ready for bed? You don’t have to sleep right now, though.”

Richie suddenly clapped his hands, startling both Eddies who gave him a shocked look, “We could watch a fucking movie!! Holy shit—he’s never seen Harry Potter. EDS!! HE’S NEVER SEEN HARRY FUCKING POTTER!!!”

“Calm down Richie!!” Eddie exclaimed as he watching his chaotic husband shake his younger self by the shoulders in an excited manner.

“Stop shaking me!!” mini-Eddie complained, struggling successfully away from the man.

Richie made his way to his husband, “Okay, I’ll take care of the snacks, you search for the movie on Netflix and you—” he pointed at the teen, “Go upstairs, get ready for bed and come back to watch an amazing movie!”

Mini-Eddie shrugged, but he obeyed nonetheless. He stood from the couch and gave Richie a last odd look before ascending the stairs to change clothes.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Eddie said, laughing a little as he watched Richie’s sudden high energy level, “Did you take your ADHD medicine, idiot?”

“I can’t remember!” Richie shouted from the kitchen, which was unnecessary since Eddie could clearly hear him from that distance.

Shaking his head, and thinking he didn’t really have a choice, the ex-risk analyst grabbed the remote control from the coffee table and logged into their Netflix account, “We’re only going to watch the first one,” he warned as he found the movie.

“What?! No way, at least the second one as well! I bet mini-spaghetti will want to see it!” Richie whined behind him, and Eddie could hear him rummaging through their pantry, picking up a variety of healthy snacks from Whole Foods, and some unhealthy as well, Eddie accepted.

“Dude, that’s like almost five hours! No fucking way, mini-me wants to sleep early, remember?”

He heard his husband groan loudly, “Fine! But if he’s curious about the other movies then we’ll watch it tomorrow.”

Eddie bit his tongue to refrain him from snapping at his husband that this wasn’t supposed to be a fun thing. That his younger self's appearance was still an issue to be solved and that they should be stressing about it right now, trying to find a way to send him back. But at the same time, he told himself to calm the fuck down and be grateful for having a husband that can remain positive in a shitty situation—and that even manages to cheer him up and be so comforting as well. Eddie didn’t want to be the mean one, he didn’t want to make everyone around him anxious and uncomfortable just because he felt that way.

He took a deep breath and exhaled until he was sure he was calm enough to speak up again.

“You do know that they’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

The noises coming from the kitchen stopped, and Eddie could feel Richie’s mind coming to a screech, “Oh. Fuck, I kinda forgot.”

No words were exchanged after that.

When Eddie finally put the movie on and paused it, ready to be viewed, he walked to the kitchen and helped his husband with the snacks. Bringing them to the coffee table with Richie trailing right behind him and setting them while separating the sweet from the salty ones. Richie went back to retrieve three water bottles (because there’s no way in fucking hell Eddie will drink tap water).

When mini-Eddie returned, Richie inwardly squealed at how adorable the teen looked, wearing his way oversized t-shirt. He checked himself though and held a neutral expression when the kid sat between the adults.

“That’s a lot of snacks—didn’t we just eat?” mini-Eddie wondered as he gawked at the delicious goods on top of the coffee table.

“Half of those are healthy so it’s okay to eat, right Eds?” Richie explained, smirking at the latter.

“Just play the damn movie, Richie,” Eddie grumbled as he snatched a ‘sea salt with vegetables chips’ bag to himself.

Mini-Eddie eyed it curiously as Richie, who already had the remote in hand, pressed play—letting the ‘Hedwig’s Theme’ engulf the room.

Eddie was trying to look grumpy because Richie told him he found that adorable—but as the movie progressed and he noticed that Richie was just as awed with the movie as the kid was, Eddie couldn’t help to watch them with a fond look.

He closed his eyes and imagined that this could him and Richie one day, having a movie night with their own child—cuddled together with snacks around them, and the thought itself made the man almost cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also here’s some important info I want to share:
> 
> Richie and Eddie’s house address is 736 Sunset Ave, Venice, CA 90291, USA  
> Link of their house if you want to see photos of it: https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/736-Sunset-Ave-Venice-CA-90291/20451691_zpid/?mmlb=g,1
> 
> On the map, if you search the address, they are (by car distance):
> 
> \- 2 minutes away from a Starbucks  
> \- 2 minutes away from a Whole Foods  
> \- 2 minutes away from 2 different supermarkets.  
> \- 9 minutes away from Venice Beach  
> \- 14 minutes away from Ocean Front Walk  
> \- 3 minutes away from a 7-Eleven


	4. A Small Update (maybe TMI??)

**Hi, guys, I am so sorry but this isn’t a new chapter!**

**A lot of things happened to me and it stopped me from having the motivation to write a new chapter or to write at all (but don’t worry I already wrote 2k words so I’m almost halfway on it).**

**I’m not giving up on this story. I have future chapters already planned and the plot is finished. I know what’s gonna happen and all I have to do is write it so this is probably the most organized story I have ever written.**

**Update to why it is taking me a lot of time to update: We found out that my grandma has breast cancer.**

**It’s still early stage and she’s going to get treatment but that left me in a state on anxiety because I love her so much, she’s the only grandparent I have and I don’t want her to die, she’s only 79 years old. I spent a few days with her so I didn’t write.**

**Then, when I returned home, our wifi and cable got cut out for a full week because of the lack of payment (yeah we’re struggling financially but it happens almost every month so I’m used to it). I’m trying to get a job and no one has called me yet for an interview so that has left me a little depressed.**

**Then, my sister’s laptop broke and since she also owns this laptop (the one that I mainly use to write and ready fics) she has taken to her own hands to take this laptop from me to use it. Life sucks, haha. And with the Coronavirus she can’t go out to fix it. So I get like 5 hours a day on this laptop and without any motivation to write I simply play Sims 4 or read fanfiction—and then I feel guilty for not writing.**

**Lmao, I’m sorry.**

**Anyways, sorry if this was TMI but I wanted to be honest. I’m coping with a lot of stress because everyone’s home and there are at least two arguments a day.**

**I’ll try to write at least one hour per day to manage to upload a new chapter this week. I’ll try, I promise!**

**And also, I’m already planning on a new story to post after this one is finished!**

**Stay safe, wash your hands and STAY HOME.**


	5. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus fucking Christ.
> 
> It took me a while, but I did it. And I feel so much better that I finally updated this story. I’m so sorry for the delay, really. Also, I hope you guys are being safe, social-distancing and washing your hands.
> 
> I wrote a longer chapter this time, and the Losers finally meet mini-Eddie! Some clarification comes from Mike and there are babies!!
> 
> I offer you a 12k chapter that I finished writing at 9 am without sleeping (i'm so fuckin tired, lmao). When I wake up I’ll see if I missed any spelling mistakes. Enjoy!
> 
> Stay safe!

**Thursday, July 4th**

**7:33 AM**

To be awakened by his phone blaring _‘Joker in the Pack’_ by The Adicts was not a good way for Richie to realize that they all fell asleep on the couch while watching _‘Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban’._ And he also didn’t welcome the reminder of how he was getting when he felt a sharp pain on his spine from sleeping in a sitting position all night.

But he had to admit that, as he reached for his phone on the coffee table, the sight of mini-Eddie sleeping soundly while leaning on his husband’s arm, drooling over it as well, was worth it.

Richie smiled fondly at the two, even with thirty years of difference, the two were still heavy sleepers. And he couldn’t help to keep staring while he picked up the call, placing his phone near his ear without even checking who was it.

“What’s up?”

 _“Hey Rich, it’s Patty!”_ a jubilant voice greeted him from the other side.

Richie instantly smiled. When the Losers met Patricia “Patty” Uris, they all collectively and instantly adored the woman and welcomed her warmly into their dysfunctional family. It was clear how much Patty genuinely loved and cared for Stan, and the whole group could agree that they were a great couple. If Richie had met her when he was thirteen years old, the two would’ve been as close as he was with Beverly and besides, Richie and her began getting along pretty well and she became a motherly presence in the group.

But what Richie really liked about Patty is that she never got insulted by his crude humor and sometimes even went along with his quips and jokes, making Stan exasperated.

Stan was truly a lucky man. Patty was patient, a good mother, and a reliable friend.

“Pats, my girl! What’s up?” Richie asked, trying to cover up his reeling voice caused by the sudden awakening,‌ “How can I help the mother of my ward?”

Patty chuckled, _“Sorry for calling in so early—it’s nine in Atlanta—but I just wanted to check in on the things for tonight.”_

Richie rubbed his tired eyes and straightened his frames as he thought for a moment before answering properly, “The plan’s still the same,” he hesitated, glancing at his sleeping husband and mini-Eddie for a moment, “Except… there’s a surprise waiting for everyone.”

 _“A surprise?”_ Patty seemed to halt, Richie could sense that she was walking around her house. Probably picking up after Aviva or helping her daughter pack her baggage.

“Yup,” Richie confirmed, accentuating on the ‘p’.

The blonde woman on the other side let out a curious sound, _“Oh, shit, now you left me earning for that secret.”_

That made him laugh out loud, startling his husband awake, “Well, you gotta wait until you get your ass here, and trust me, you wanna want to sit it down for the shit you’re about to face.”

 _“Geez, you make it sound like it’s a bad thing—oh, Stan? Oh, okay—hey Richie, Stan is gonna take over, Aviva wants me to help her choose her clothes,”_ she told him with a winning tone, obviously happy that their daughter preferred her over her dad.

“Make my girl look like a cool princess,” Richie managed to tell Patty before he heard some shuffling of her phone being given to her husband.

_“My daughter is already a cool kid, she doesn’t need to be a princess as well.”‌_

Richie chuckled as he heard the phone being passed around on the other side, soon enough Stan’s voice was heard with a tired tone.

 _“Hey Richie,”_ he greeted him quickly, _“How're things?”_

Richie snorted, glancing at the two sleeping Eddies, “Peachy enough.”

_“Peachy uh? Do I want to know?”_

“No, not really. I already told your wife it’s going to be a surprise for everyone.”

 _“A good surprise or a bad one?”‌_ Stan inquired after sighing.

“You’ll see,” Richie told him as he watched mini-Eddie stir during his sleep, “Anyways, I gotta wake up Eddie and start preparing things to receive eleven people in our house.”

_“Sounds fair, I’ll see you in a few hours—Aviva, drop that! You can cut yourself—bye Richie!”_

Hearing the sound of the call being hung up, Richie shook his head with a fond expression and placed his phone back in the coffee table.

“What time is it?” a groggy voice asked.

The comedian looked to see mini-Eddie rubbing his eyes with a disgruntled face, and Richie couldn’t help but snort at how adorable he looked as he replied, “Almost eight, why?”

“It’s so early!!” mini-Eddie complained, his voice woke up the other Eddie, who hilariously had a similar expression to his younger counterpart.

“What the fuck?”‌ Eddie groaned out loud, glaring at his husband.

“Don’t blame me, you woke up yourself!” Richie defended himself right away as he gestured his hand towards mini-Eddie, who slapped it away promptly.

“You’re the one blasting music this early!” the thirteen-year-old exclaimed.

“I wasn’t blasting music, I got a phone call you dingus.‌”

Mini-Eddie seemed intrigued by Richie’s statement—usually, there was only one ring whenever someone got a phone call and that came from the landline, so for a random song other than the normal ring to come out from a cell phone was new to the teenager. 

“Who called you?” Eddie questioned as he stretched his back. On contrary to his husband, Eddie was more active. He jogged almost every morning, stretched and did yoga twice a month. So sleeping on the couch for one night didn’t affect the middle-aged man’s back as it affected Richie’s.

“It was Patty, just to confirm if everything was still going according to plan,” Richie informed him before he glanced at the television, “Was the television on all night?”

Eddie ignored his question and stood up from the couch, looking around with a disturbed look on his face, “Jesus fuck! I almost forgot everyone’s arriving today! And the fireworks show is in like, twelve hours!!! FUCK!” he bellowed before bolting from the area, dashing up the stairs.

There was a moment of silence between the two before mini-Eddie looked up at Richie, “Why is he so stressed?”

The other snorted, “Today’s the fourth of July, everyone is coming to celebrate and then stay for the rest of the month for the annual Losers Club retreat,” he clarified before letting out a loud yawn, “And don’t look so surprised, you’re easily stressed as well.”

“Fourth of July? That’s when we went to Neilbolt!” the thirteen-year-old cried.

Richie got goosebumps and quivered dramatically, “Please don’t bring that day up, I don't wanna throw hands at Billiam again when he gets here.”

“Hey, dumbass, this might be important! This could be related to why I’m here!” mini-Eddie complained as he swung his leg towards the older man, ready to hit him. He overlooked the part where Richie mentioned ‘throwing hands’ with Bill, he surely didn’t remember that happening.

Richie took a step back, easily avoiding it after years of practice, “Look, I get it. You wanna find out why you’re here, but I haven’t even had my coffee so shut up and leave me alone for at least an hour—go take a shower, or something,” Richie told him dryly, still feeling sluggish and worn as he moved towards the kitchen.

Mini-Eddie gave him a provoked look, “Since we’re up so early, can we go buy new clothes for me? I don’t want to wear the same outfit every day while I’m stuck in the future.”

Richie knew he had a point, but at the same time, he couldn’t find the will to care about serious stuff at this moment, “Kid, just, _ssh_. Talk to your older self when he gets back. I need my coffee before I can be a responsible adult. You’ll understand when you reach my age.”

Mini-Eddie followed after him, “Rich, come on…” he whined softly.

Richie shut his eyes and sighed profoundly, he could already see the puppy eyes equaling that tone of voice—whenever Eddie requested him something with that look on his face, Richie could never say no to him.

“We’ll go after breakfast,” the comedian finally replied, with a defeated tone. He didn’t want to leave his house today since they had obtained everything for the fireworks show and the barbecue. Richie thought he could enjoy a calm day before everyone arrived, but now that they had this predicament in their hands that would be impossible. And besides, mini-Eddie had a point. He needed new clothes.

“Cool, I’m gonna take a shower then,” mini-Eddie told him with a victorious smile before disappeared upstairs, practically skipping after getting what he wanted.

Richie snorted and shook his head as he turned on the coffee machine, “Brat.”

Ten minutes later, his husband comes downstairs donning new clothes and looking fresh after a quick shower, “Okay since he’s showering we can talk,” he told his husband as soon as he spotted him.

Richie, who was sitting on the couch and channel surfing with a mug of coffee gave Eddie and an arched eyebrow, “Honey, is that my shirt?”

“What?” Eddie asked innocently, “No, I mean, I don’t know? Who cares, we need to talk!”

Richie’s shoulders slumped, “He wants new clothes,” he began, cutting whatever his husband was about to begin discussing.

“New clothes?” Eddie echoed with a surprised tone as he took a seat next to Richie, “Oh, shit, yeah, that makes sense. Of course, he wants new clothes!” he cried, covering his face with the palm of his hand before rubbing his eyes tiredly, “I’ll go, I still remember my sizes when I was thirteen.”‌

“Fair enough,” Richie nodded, “Just make sure you buy him something modern—and no red shorts, I know we both don’t give a shit and that California is the most accepting state but kids don’t wear booty shorts nowadays,” he snickered, dodging the pillow Eddie threw his way for the last remark.

“I didn’t wear booty shorts you pervert! And I’m not going to buy myself something I wouldn’t like, dipshit! You know maybe mini-me is right, you might be a ped—”

“Don’t finish that! I got nauseous every time the kid called me that,” Richie exclaimed, sulking a little as he tossed the pillow back to where it came from.

Eddie beamed, “I’m just kidding, dumbass,” he stood from the couch and arched his back, not noticing when Richie checked his ass for a second, “Well, I better go now for mini-me have something to wear after he’s done showering,” he circled the couch and walked towards the foyer to pick up his car keys from the key holder by the entrance door, “Do we need anything?”

Richie pondered for a moment, “Maybe more coal for the barbecue and ice?”

“You got it,” Eddie said as he pocketed his wallet, “See you in thirty—and Richie?” he called out while opening the door.

“Yeah?” Richie said, staring at him from the couch curiously.

“Be a good babysitter. I’m a tough kid to deal with,” the hypochondriac winked before stepping outside.

Richie huffed through his nose, smirking, “Yeah, yeah, I know…” he mumbled fondly.

* * *

**8:33 AM**

“Hey, sorry you gotta use your Derry clothes again, but Eddie went to get new outfits for you so you can change when he gets back from the store,” was the very first thing Richie told mini-Eddie when the kid showed up in the kitchen, probably hungry and ready for some breakfast.

The thirteen-year-old stared at the man that was going to become Richie Tozier. Mini-Eddie didn’t want to admit it but he was grumpy at how tall he was—at least, taller than his future self. If his Richie knew that, in thirty years, he’d continue being taller than him he’d use that trashmouth of his and never shut up about it. Still, the teen couldn’t help to feel proud of one of his best friends. From what he gathered around the house—and from an award case that was on the hall upstairs—Richie was a successful comedian, and famous as well.

“Do I have something on my face, kid?” Richie asked after feeling slightly judged under mini-Eddie’s gaze.

“Yes, an ugly mug. But it’s a lost cause,” the teen promptly retorted as he sat down by the island, “What’s for breakfast?”

Richie grinned right away, unaffected by his snarky comment, “Buttermilk pancakes, bacon and some delicious hashbrowns made by yours truly,” he replied with a chirpy tone as he placed a plate with a fork and knife and a cup in front of mini-Eddie, “You want milk or juice?” he asked while turning around to take the bacon out of the frying pan before it burned.

“You can cook?” Eddie instead asked.

Richie hummed, placing the food on the island counter, “I was a college student once, I had to manage.”

Mini-Eddie stared at the breakfast Richie did by himself and he let out an impressed sound, “I’ll have some milk, please.”

“Almond, oatmeal or lean?”

“What the _fuck_ is almond milk?!” Mini-Eddie sputtered at once, beckoning a guffaw from Richie, who saw this reaction coming.

The kid was from a redneck town in the eighties, shit like this didn’t exist there.

“Try it, you’ll see. I like it,” Richie said, still chuckling as he opened the fridge’s door and retrieved the milk carton from inside, “And before you complain, this was your idea. Before you moved in with me, I was happily ordering junk food every night and drinking cheap beer,” he said, feigning indignation as he uncapped the milk and poured some on the teen’s cup, “But then you arrived and now I’m eating healthy and losing weight and my skin looks great, blah, blah, blah—drink the almond jizz, you’ll love it,” Richie sat down next to mini-Eddie and placed the milk on the island, watching attentively as if he was waiting for a firework show to begin.

Mini-Eddie scrunched his whole face with disgust as he stared at the seemingly harmless liquid, “I’m not going to drink something that you call ‘almond jizz’ you fucking idiot.”

“Come on! I’m just fucking around with you, it’s actually really good,” to prove he wasn’t trying to trick him, Richie poured himself a glass and gulped down the remains inside of it—letting an exaggerated pleasant gasp afterward.

Mini-Eddie rolled his eyes, and Richie almost pinched his cheek and called him cute.

“Now it’s your turn!” the adult encouraged.

Maybe it was because he was getting irritated by his persistence, or perhaps it was the curious side of him that won, but the teen finally decided to entertain the comedian and bring the glass to his lips to finally taste the milk, and he was pleasantly surprised, “Oh,” he murmured before proceeding to sip again, this time without any hesitation, “Oh, okay,” he commented lightly before scowling at the smirking adult, “Fuck you.”

Chuckling, Richie tried to look offended, “What did I do?!”

“You tried to make me think it was bad!”

“I did not!”

“Did so!”

“Your mother.”

“FUCK YOU RICHIE, THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!”

“Fuck _you_!!” Richie yelled back, laughing when the kid threw a piece of bacon at his face.

* * *

The front door was unlocked but they both didn’t notice Eddie marching inside with two, big bags of shopping done. He made his way towards the kitchen, following the screaming with an expression of someone that was anticipating it to happen, and harrumphed very loudly, interrupting the breakfast bantering to see his husband slurp his bacon piece into his mouth, while his younger self ate his pancake like a ravenous dog as they turned their heads to give him their attention.

Eddie arched his perfectly thick eyebrow at the behavior, but shrugged it away as he decided to speak up, “I got new clothes for you,” he notified the teen, then, looking at his husband, he motioned one of the bags towards him, “Here’s the coal, and can you put the ice on the freezer? It’s so hot outside I think it’s starting to melt.”

Nodding, Richie stood up to comply with Eddie’s request, but he was almost pushed aside by the figure of mini-Eddie rushing past him with an excited grin.

“Jesus!” Richie yelped as the teen sought to seize the bag that probably had his new clothes.

“What do you have there? Oh, I like that color! Is that a shoebox? Did you get me new shoes, too?! Holy shit! Look at that fabric, is it a hundred percent cotton? I hope it is because my skin needs to breathe in his devil’s ass of weather,” mini-Eddie asserted, speaking with his usual expeditious pacing.

Eddie smiled, unaffected and patiently, “Yes, I hope you like what I got. You’re me, after all, so I probably should know what style we’d want at your age—and yes, I got you new shoes, and pajamas too. And a hairbrush as well.”

“Fuckin’ a!!” mini-Eddie shouted with a relieved tone as he glimpsed inside the bag when his older self finally handed it to him, “Thanks! I’m gonna change now!” he grinned gratefully before scattering upstairs, leaving his unfinished breakfast behind.

There was a moment of silence between Richie getting the ice from Eddie and placing it on the freezer while Eddie washed his hands in the kitchen’s sink.

“Did he just say ‘fuckin’ a’? You heard that, right?” Richie noted, trying to hold a grin as Eddie smiled knowingly while getting himself a plate to finally have some breakfast.

“Yes Richie, I heard,” he said while picking the least burnt bacon pieces into his plate, “What do you want me to say about it?”

“Uh, I don’t know? How adorable it was?”

“Adorable? It’s an eighties slang.”

“Dude!! I don’t remember you ever saying it!”

Eddie smiled as he poured himself a cup of coffee, “True. I think I only said it when I was genuinely excited about something.”

Richie took the seat next to Eddie’s when he sat down, wrapping an arm around his torso before pressing a kiss on his cheek, “Now that you mention, I do remember you saying it once. It was when you saw my shitty van for the first time.”

Eddie groaned fondly, turning his head to meet Richie’s affectionate expression at the memory.

They were both sixteen—Beverly, Ben, and Bill had left Derry and while Mike still hanged out with them, Stan became too busy with his college preparations and rarely showed up to anything—but that didn’t stop Richie and Eddie from remaining close friends. Seeing Richie’s shitty, blue pick-up van pulling by his house’s curb while Richie obnoxiously honked for him to come out was the best thing Eddie has ever seen in his life.

His mother disagreed, of course.

That smelly, amazing van allowed the two to go places they weren’t able with their childhood bikes. Such as Bangor, where they used to spend the weekends blowing their allowance on mindless shit and junk food. And even though Eddie felt guilty about it, it was the days where Mike couldn’t come with them that he treasured most—because even though he still repressed his homosexuality at the age of sixteen, Eddie was smart enough to notice his attraction towards Richie. And when the two were alone, there was a different vibe from when Mike was with them. There was a tension that both were too scared to explore.

And they never did, even when Richie kissed his cheek when Eddie left to New York when they were both almost eighteen years old.

Eddie let his forehead rest against Richie’s, “I remember when you convinced me to eat two hot dogs followed by a chocolate sundae and I vomited on the road on our way back to Derry from Bangor.”

Richie hummed, “Wasn’t it romantic?”

At that, the brunette laughed, “Fuck off, idiot, my mom didn’t allow me to leave for two weeks after that.”

“But?” Richie sang.

Smiling softly, Eddie continued, “But… it was a good day. You made me feel better afterward.”

“I felt guilty about it, but you know me. I have to use dumbassery and my trashmouth to express myself. So making you laugh after that was a relief.”

Eddie snickered and pressed a quick peck on his husband’s lips before reverting his attention to his breakfast, “Now leave me alone and stop talking about vomit—I’m trying to eat here.”

Giddy that he got a kiss from the love of his life, Richie decided to behave and nodded throughout, “Yessir! I’m going to see if mini-Eds needs help upstairs.”

He watched Richie swirl out of the island stool and hurry upstairs. And while Eddie cherished these small moments they could have without having to worry about his younger self’s reaction, he couldn’t help to feel that they should have more. Sure, they couldn’t be comfortably gay for each other with a thirteen-year-old that wasn’t even aware of his sexuality, but Eddie was thinking about something else.

His friends would be here soon, and they’d have the distraction of explaining the presence of mini-Eddie from the eighties. But then Eddie’s attention would be on the safety of their kids—of his surrogate nephew and nieces. The house was babyproof enough.

Bill and Audra would stay on the first floor’s guest suite with the twins. Stan and Patty would stay on the second guest suite with Aviva, then, Ben and Bev would stay in the third guest suite with Lydia. The problem now was Mike’s room—which was where thirteen-year-old Eddie has been sleeping. They would have to arrange a space for the kid since the only room left was Eddie’s and Richie’s.

That was another problem, and Eddie hoped his younger self wouldn’t ask where was Richie going to sleep because they’ve been sharing the bed until now, their only caution being waking up earlier than mini-Eddie to avoid any confrontation.

While he ate, Eddie began considering. He wasn’t going to have Mike sleep on the couch—maybe he could make a bed in front of the L-shaped couch supplied with blankets/quilts and his yoga mattresses as the base. But then he frowned because that was a disastrous idea. He realized mini-Eddie would fuss about sleeping on the floor because of his asthma.

The only alternative was the couch, which was comfortable and spacious enough for a thirteen-year-old. He knew his younger self would understand why he had to change places because after all his existence was only a fleeting thing.

Yikes, even Eddie cringed at his train of thought. He needed to stop thinking about his mini-self as a ‘problem’. He was a kid, a minor who had no idea how he traveled thirty years into the future. He couldn’t blame his counterpart and make the kid feel guilty about this whole scenario—that would be extremely unfair and kind of a dick move.

But Eddie had to acknowledge that he felt a sense of giddiness while he was buying clothes for a pre-teen. Again, his mind wandered far and he began to create a reality where he was purchasing clothes for his own kid. His and Richie’s. He kinda went far enough to almost buy the kid a new fanny pack because of how guilty he still felt for hiding it.

He controlled himself and instead bought him a new pair of shoes.

It was fine. He just hoped the clothes were good enough, Eddie needed to have at least one thing going for him today before chaos happened.

* * *

**3:22 PM**

Richie, Eddie, and the younger Eddie were enjoying some television time after eating lunch (and both adults were entertained when they had to explain the teen’s questions about certain shows) when the trio simultaneously tensed up at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Eddie shared an apprehensive stare with his husband before he nodded, accepting the situation, “This is it.”

“Yep,” the entertainer sighed as Eddie rose from the couch and made his way to open the door to the first guests to arrive.

“Who is it? Should I hide? Maybe this is a bad idea!” mini-Eddie immediately panicked, bolting from the couch to stare at the foyer wildly.

“Whoa, buddy!” Richie softly intervened, “It’s Bill, now calm down, and follow me. Maybe it’s best if we let them settle down first before we drop the bomb,”‌ Richie stated before he motioned the teen to follow him towards Eddie’s office.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right! Okay—okayokayokayokay— _holy fuck_!!” the thirteen-year-old heed him, his voice was shaky and filled with anxiety as he trailed after him, and Richie felt bad for making him feel this way. He had witnessed Eddie having panic attacks before and always hoped that those, one day, would end for good.

The kid already had two panic attacks since he got here, Richie wasn’t striving for a third one.

“One thing you gotta know,” Richie started as they entered the office, “Bill has a wife, she’s cool, but from now on you gotta tone down with the swearing, okay? They have baby twins and they’re at that age of imitating everything we say.”

“Bill is a dad?!”‌ mini-Eddie exclaimed as he stood behind the door, weirded out at the idea of his best friend being an adult _and_ father, “Dude—that’s crazy! Twins, too? Holy fu—crap!”

Richie couldn’t help to guffaw at his immediate effort to hold a profanity in, “I know right?”‌

They both halted when they heard Eddie ushering and welcoming the Denbroughs into the house. Bill was probably going to wonder where he was soon, and Richie had to admit he ached to see the little munchkins. But he had to stick with mini-Eddie for now, and as they listened Eddie leading the couple down the hall outside, to the guest room next to the office, mini-Eddie rushed closer to Richie and tried glimpsing from the half-closed door—only to be drawn back by Richie.

“Rich!” the teen seethed, whining a little because of his curiosity wanting to see how Bill looked like thirty years into the future.

Richie hushed him right away, “Not now! They might be carrying the babies and I don’t want them to be shocked enough to drop them,” the adult susurrated urgently at him.

Mini-Eddie was astonished at his observation, because who would’ve thought that Richie Tozier could be so responsible? He gave him an odd look before nodding, silently obeying and staying concealed behind the door for now.

“Traffic still sucks in L.A, we might go back to London because of it,” Bill commented lightly as he walked by, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“At least it gave us time for the twins to fall asleep,” Audra added softly.

“Is that his wife?” mini-Eddie mouthed to Richie.

The comedian nodded with a pleasant smile.

The teen couldn’t believe that Bill had married a British woman. He couldn’t wait to hear how they met—was it in London? He heard her mention it.

“Well, you guys should put the twins sleeping in the bed then… and uh, Richie and I need to talk to you about something serious,” they both overheard Eddie tell them from the end of the hall.

“Oh, don’t tell me you two are finally adopting!” Audra gasped.

Richie spluttered at once as mini-Eddie gave a lost expression.

“W-What?” the teen stammered, confusedly and feeling an emotion he wasn’t aware of yet.

“WHAT?!” Eddie yelped nervously from outside, but quickly lowering his voice because of the napping twins, “No, no! We’re not, and—that’s not the reason, uh, it’s about something else. Just please come to the living room when you can, okay?”

As they heard him panic, mini-Eddie turned towards Richie with a vague expression, “What is she talking about?”

Richie eyed him and immediately felt cornered, the look that the kid was sending his way was making Richie want to run away from him, “Uh… nothing? Audra is a joker, that’s why me and her get along so well,” he lied promptly, giving him a nonchalant shrug.

“You mean ‘she and I’.”

“Whatever,” Richie rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance for being corrected while what he truly felt was utter relief that mini-Eddie seemed to have easily believed his excuse. Talk about a really fucking close call.

To help, even more, Eddie stepped inside the office with an anxious appearance, “I’m about to lose my shit over this.”

“You? I almost had a heart-attack when Audra—” Richie bit his tongue from continuing talking when he remembered that a certain kid with certain repressed homosexuality was in the room, “Anyways, do we take him to the living room?”

Eddie looked sad for a moment before nodding and giving his younger self a pleading look, “Please go sit on the couch, and don’t be scared if we all start screaming at each other.”

Mini-Eddie shook his head with an ‘are-you-serious?’ expression,‌“Uh, duh? It’s all we do when we hang out?” he stated matter-of-factly.

“True,” Richie agreed, “Just let us do the talking first. If Bill asks you something just be honest. There’s no lie to be said.”

Mini-Eddie nodded.

“The hardest part will be convincing Audra. I guess I could use my childhood pictures as evidence,” Eddie mumbled as he walked further into the office, straight to his desk to open the drawers in it.

“Yeah, good idea,” Richie told him.

“Should I go?” the teen asked, unsure of what to do and starting to feel slightly awkward.

“I’ll go with you,” the comedian spoke with haste.

He made sure Bill and Audra weren’t leaving their room before he gave the teen the signal to leave the office and pace back to the living room. Richie followed soon, suddenly feeling his throat going dry as the moment was nearing closer. The worst thing it could happen was Audra placing them all in a mental institution. And Richie was beginning to question if he belonged there.

“So, I just sit on the couch?” mini-Eddie repeated, and Richie grimaced at how weak the kid sounded.

“Yeah, and mini-Eds?”

“Hm?”

“It’s going to be okay. I promised, remember? I never break a promise,” Richie told him with a solemn tone. It was laced with secrecy because Richie still remembered when he told Eddie that—they were fifteen years old, and Bill left Derry with the promise of writing them every week.

That never happened, for obvious reasons.

Eddie was heart-broken and terrified that Stan was right about them not being friends anymore when they were all adults. Richie was alone with him the hammock and Eddie usually talked about his uncertainties more easily when they were alone. Richie was the same. So seeing Eddie suddenly cry about not wanting to grow up if that implied that the Losers were to drift away.

That was when Richie promised Eddie he’d always be with him.

Sure, that commitment was broken as soon as Eddie left for New York City with his mom—but it wasn’t their fault, it was the stupid, fucking magic that clown cast upon them as soon they all left Derry.

But Richie brought his promise back during his wedding vows, and this time he was keeping it.

Of course, he couldn’t tell this to mini-Eddie. Because that would be a huge spoiler in his life.

“Yeah… ok, Rich,”‌ mini-Eddie sighed as he fell heavily on the couch.

Richie was about to reassure him when he heard steps approaching from behind, panicking, he did the first thing his screaming brain told him to do. He jumped on the couch, sitting next to the kid, but using his arm to wrap around the smaller body to hide him behind his taller one.

“Hmf!!”‌

“Rich, what the hell are you doing? You’re going to suffocate him!” Eddie exclaimed as he rounded the couch to give his husband an exasperated look. Richie noticed he was holding pictures.

Letting go of the struggling teen, Richie let out an exclaim, “I thought it was them! You weren’t here yet so I panicked!”

“Clearly, and geez!! Have you showered today?!” mini-Eddie complained as he gasped for fresh air, “I think the future still has deodorant, right?!”‌

Richie laughed sarcastically.

“Enough, just everyone, calm the fuck down! The twins are asleep and we can’t let Bill and Audra go into shock—”

Eddie was cut by a couple of steps nearing the living room, and Richie proceeded to pull mini-Eddie towards him again, and this time the kid didn’t complain—in fact, he hid himself closer underneath Richie’s arm, beginning to shake like a leaf.

“Okay so the twins are sleeping on the bed—and yes Eddie, we made barriers around them with the pillows—so they can’t,” Bill was mid-talking as Audra stood by his side when he noticed a figure next to Richie, he quirked his eyebrow, “Uh, who’s that?” he asked, staring at Eddie.

“Well, it’s a long story…” the hypochondriac told him before nodding towards Richie, who looked hesitant before he rose from the couch and exposed mini-Eddie completely.

“Is that a kid?” Audra questioned confusedly.

Bill merely took a step back, staring with widened eyes at the thirteen-year-old. He didn’t realize it right away, but when mini-Eddie’s bored into his own the shock strongly fell on the writer, he jerked backward again, covering his mouth to hold back a horrified scream. Audra, noticing her husband’s actions, looked at him with concern and confusion, she didn’t understand why he was reacting this way to a boy.

“Wha-what-what th-the _FUCK_!”‌ Bill screeched as he slammed his back against the wall, he looked wildly towards Eddie and Richie, seeking for answers, “WHAT THE F-F-FU-FUCK!!”

“Bill! Calm down!!” Audra cried, distressed for seeing him in this state, “You’re stuttering, honey take a deep breath!” she walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder gently, “Breathe…”

Richie sighed and took his glasses off to rub his eyes, “We know, Bill. We were also shocked.”

Mini-Eddie, who was feeling both guilty and afraid at the same time, hugged his knees and remained quiet on the couch, biting his lower lip as a form of distraction.

Bill, who had now a hand over Audra’s on his shoulder, took a deep breath before he stalked towards the two husbands, “What the hell is this?! Eddie, please fucking explain why your kid self is sitting across us! Please tell me this is a joke!” Bill laughed, anxiously and forcefully before eyeing Richie, “Is this your prank, trashmouth? Did you pay a kid actor that resembles Eddie to scare the shit outta us? That’s hilarious because he—” Bill looked towards the kid again, and shuddered with fright when he noticed that it was in fact, Eddie Kaspbrak, “No! Fuck! That’s really you, isn’t it? What is this? Do you think it’s Pennywise? Is it a trick?”

“What are you talking about?!” Audra exclaimed as she crossed the room, towards them, “What is going on here?!” she impatiently asked the three men, casting a glance towards the kid.

Eddie pursed his lips as Bill gave him a pleading look, “We don’t know what happened. He showed up here, two days ago, very suddenly. Not even he knows how he got here. All we know is that it’s not Pennywise, that clown is dead.”

“The clown is dead?” mini-Eddie quietly repeated with a shocked expression.

“Mike already knows,” Richie added quickly, cringing at the kid’s new accidental discovery, “He’s searching for answers and in how to send him back.”

“Mikey knows?? You told Mikey but you didn’t tell us? You didn’t tell _me_?!”‌ Bill exclaimed, startling everyone at how raw and hurt his voice sounded like, “Guys, we don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Eddie huffed, answering before Richie could, “Because you guys have a life! We didn’t want you all to be concerned over this right away! You guys have kids, and jobs, and responsibilities and if we told you that my kid self had suddenly blipped from the past to our fucking house you would’ve come right away!”

“Of course we would’ve! This is serious!” Bill retorted with an angry expression.

“Yeah? And rush everything? Stressing your babies and your wife?! We decided to wait until you got here because we wanted you to at least be calm until you go here!” Richie exclaimed, becoming defensive when seeing Bill scolding his husband.

Bill didn’t say anything, but he was seething when Audra placed herself between the three with an exasperated expression, “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?! Also, keep your voices down! The twins are sleeping, assholes!” she chided at them, “And you,” she startled mini-Eddie when she gave him her attention, “Are you okay? Who are you?”

“I’m—”

“He’s me, Audra. He’s me when I was thirteen,” Eddie told her with a tired voice as if he knew she wouldn’t believe him right away.

Which was what happened, “Oh my God,” she laughed, “Of course he is! I mean, look at him! He looks so much like you, he could pass as your son,” she smiled, “Good one, guys. Who is he, a distant cousin?”

Bill turned to his wife and shook his head, “Honey, this is Eddie from the past. Trust me, I’d recognize him anywhere,” he tried to sound calm and believable.

“Bill, this prank is starting to become silly,”‌ Audra chastised.

Richie bumped shoulders with Eddie and nodded at the pictures he was holding, his husband flinched when he realized he had forgotten about them. Swiftly enough, Eddie gesture the pictures towards Audra, and she eyed them skeptically.

“What is that?” she inquired softly.

“Photos of me, taken when I was a kid. In the eighties. There’s even two with all of us,” he explained nervously as Audra took the pictures from his hand, looking through them keenly.

Mini-Eddie perked up at them, staring at the pictures curiously, “Can I see them, too?”

“Sure, they were taken before eighty-nine so I guess it’s fine,” Richie replied to him with a tight smile.

“This could’ve been photoshopped,” Audra suddenly said as she looked through them, but her expression showed confusion as she glanced between the pictures and the teen, “I mean…” she sounded less confident each photo she looked through, “Oh, goddammit! What the fuck is going on, Bill?!” she exclaimed, startled when the reality sunk in, “This can’t be happening!”

“I’m also in the dark about this!” Bill shouted back, but then he closed his eyes and let out a lengthy exhale, “Let’s all just… calm down, sit and discuss this without panicking,” he opened his eyes to give his wife and friends a pleading look.

No one could resist those blue eyes that belonged to the leader. Even Audra, who loved her husband so much, felt complied to sit down. Not only because Bill was an authority figure, but because she respected his decisions and she knew that panicking was never the solution. Besides, her babies were sleeping so Bill’s pleas made the most sense at the moment.

“Ok, let’s sit down, then,” Audra sighed.

Mini-Eddie scooted towards the end of the couch to give space for Richie, Bill, and Audra to sit down. He couldn’t help but stare at Bill and the first thing he noticed was that the only aspect of his best friend that hadn't changed was his kind-looking eyes. Bill also had a grey line on his hair, indicating that perhaps he grew into his adulthood a bit stressed out with life, but mini-Eddie thought it looked cool on him. He was surprised when Bill glanced his way from sitting next to Richie, and after sending him an apologetic smile, the kid gladly grinned back.

“Sorry for the yelling, Eds,” Bill told him gently.

“It’s okay, I’d freak out too,” the teen easily replied, shrugging casually.

“We call him mini-Eds, to avoid any confusion,” Richie interjected, smirking slightly when he felt the kid glaring at him.

“You don’t call me ‘mini-Eds’, it’s mini-Eddie, dipshit,” he snarked, surprising Audra and making Bill snort.

“Yeah, you _really_ are him,” Bill stated between chuckles.

“Is it normal for him to curse like that?” Audra commented near her husband to avoid being heard by the thirteen-year-old.

Bill nodded amusedly.

Eddie clapped his hands, bringing the whole attention to himself, “I’m going to make some tea, is chamomile all right for everyone?” he asked.

The three adults nodded with a grateful smile, but mini-Eddie shifted awkwardly.

“What’s wrong, mini-me?” Eddie asked concernedly.

“Can I get chocolate milk instead?” the teen asked innocently.

* * *

**4:15 PM**

They’ve been conversing about the situation for thirty minutes.

And as mini-Eddie licked the chocolate milk mustache from his lips, he heard the bell ring for the second time. As he expected, the four adults tensed up and it was like he was witnessing a deja-vu. He felt guilt again—they were stressed because of his presence, and suddenly the cold chocolate milk he drank with gusto began churning inside his stomach.

Eddie set his teacup on the coffee table and rose from the couch, “That must be Mike, he already knows,” he reassured Audra and Bill.

Audra nearly fainted minutes ago from the knowledge she underwent. Because of mini-Eddie’s presence, the three Losers had to tell her what befell to them thirty years ago and the issue that occurred three years ago as well. Audra finally understood why her husband had abruptly left the new movie productions for Derry. He had told her that it had been for a reunion between friends—and half of that was true.

Audra was stunned and completely appalled when she was told that an evil shape-shifting entity from space that took the form of a clown (and that named itself Pennywise) had been the child-eating monster that murdered Bill’s little brother thirty-one years ago. That’s when she genuinely believed this wasn’t a prank—Bill would never use his little brother in a joke. She was horrified to learn about her husband’s past. Just imagining a group of kids nearly dying at the claws of a monster and killing it as adults was enough for fear to settle inside her mind. She couldn’t even do it, her mind wouldn’t allow her to even form an image of what the monster could’ve possibly looked like.

No wonder her husband was a horror novelist.

When Eddie went to open the door and returned with Mike, the librarian didn’t look as shocked as Bill and Audra had been—but he was still speechless at the sight of thirteen-year-old Eddie Kaspbrak. Before Richie and Eddie could show Mike his room, they had to finally tell the kid that he was going to have to sleep somewhere else tonight.

Mike almost offered to sleep on the couch to avoid that, but mini-Eddie complained and quickly assured that it was fine for Mike to stay in the room that was supposed to be is. He even said that the couch was good enough. And no one retaliated, because yeah, it was a good couch.

And arguing against Eddie Kaspbrak was something only Richie had the patience for.

“Oh, by the way,” Richie began after leaving mini-Eddie downstairs with the television, “You can’t tell him that Eddie and I are married.”

When both husbands asked for Bill and Audra to tag along upstairs with Mike, they were both confused as to why they were needed. But as guests, they didn’t complain about it. And now, they understood why.

“Oh shit, I knew something was missing from your house,” Bill whispered sadly.

Mike sighed as he placed his baggage next to his bed. They were all now in his guest room, and some of mini-Eddie’s stuff—such as the new things Eddie bought him—were still scattered around.

He still didn’t feel right to take away a comfortable bed from a growing kid, but mini-Eddie assured him it was fine.

“Makes sense, he doesn’t know he’s gay yet.”

Richie inwardly cringed.

“Oh, the poor thing… he must be so scared,” Audra continued, fussing sympathetically, “Have you been feeding him well? Given him a change of clothes?” she inquired as she looked at Richie and Eddie.

Bill smiled fondly at his wife while Richie seemed nervous under her gaze.

“Of course we’ve been feeding him, it’s not like we starved him! We might not have kids like you but that doesn’t mean we can’t parent well,” Eddie retorted, instantly regretting his choice of words as he felt Richie’s eyes on him, “I mean, duh, how hard is it to take care of a thirteen-year-old that happens to be me?!” he added quickly, giving them a wide, forceful casual smile while desperately hoping Richie wouldn’t think about his statement too much.

Audra however, seemed to have been hanging out with Beverly long enough to realize something, “Oh, sorry,” she simply said, deciding to change the subject for Eddie’s sake, “Mike, they said you already knew about this.”‌

“Yes, I did. They told me yesterday—and Bill, sorry I didn’t say anything. I promise I wouldn’t,” Mike told him, knowing Bill long enough to know that he’d be hurt and a little upset that a secret this severe was kept from him.

That seemed to have taken Bill out of his sulking, at least for now.

“Did you find something, Mike?” Richie asked, “Any answers? Clues in how to take him back to his year?”

Mike pursed his lips and thought before choosing his words wisely, “I need to know what he was doing before landing in the future.”‌

Eddie crossed his arms and decided to speak up, “He told us that he got separated from Richie and Bill back in Neilbolt and that the fucking clown showed up as the leper and that scared him enough to fall from a hole. I remember that day I—” Eddie suddenly stopped speaking, and his eyes widened, “I… uh…”

“Eddie?” Richie tried, growing worried over his husband’s confused expression.

“I fell and I…”

“You fell into the kitchen, on the table, and you broke your arm. Remember?” Bill supplied, giving his friend a concerned look.

“No.”

“No?” Mike repeated.

“No, I don’t remember,” Eddie stressed, “I don’t remember breaking my arm! I don’t remember shit about that day, at least not anymore!” he looked around wildly, panicked at the sudden loss of memory, “Oh fuck, what the fuck is going on now?! Richie…” he threw himself onto Richie, who instantly embraced him tightly. The way Eddie sounded, so vulnerable and scared, was enough for Richie’s skin to crawl.

“I knew it. I knew this could be one of many possibilities, but I was afraid of this one the most,” Mike grimly declared.

“What do you mean?” Richie asked him at once as Eddie began shaking around his arms.

“This Eddie is the same as the one downstairs. And I’m not saying that in a sense of being the same person, I’m saying as in the same body, mind, and soul. There’s only one Eddie Kaspbrak in this universe, but somehow now there’s two,” Mike began as he pulled out his journal from his duffel back, he opened it and started going through his notes.

“Are you fucking saying that we have a ‘Back to the Future’ bullshit going on?” Richie snapped at him in derisively manner. 

“Oh no…” Eddie fretfully said, “Richie, I believe in him. I mean, ever since my memories of Derry came back when we returned after twenty-seven years I was able to remember everything! It’s like you were able to remember when you carved our initials in the Kissing Bridge, I always remembered breaking my arm because I know something terrible happened that day, but now I can’t! I only know it happened because you guys know it!”‌

Audra cupped her hands over her mouth, “Oh my God…” she whispered as she felt her heart hammer dangerously fast. She was an actor, and she has to face scenes that would challenge her as one—but this wasn’t a movie. Or a story. This was real life and time-traveling was just, basically, been confirmed to exist right before her eyes.

“Shit! So that means that if something happens in the past, it will affect our future?!” Bill demanded urgently.

Mike sighed, giving his best friend a somber look, “It already did. Look at Eddie, he can’t remember anything past his fall,” to prove he was right, regretfully, Mike looked at Eddie for confirmation.

And by the haunted look on his face, everyone knew Mike was right.

“I can’t—I can’t remember anything else. I remember being an adult, but that day, it’s like it’s been deleted from my head!” Eddie screamed, pulling himself away from Richie’s arms to grip the sides of his head, “Fuck!! Think!!”

“Eds, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!” Richie yelped, reaching for his husband’s hands and prying them from his head to hold him in place.

“Listen to Richie, he’s right! Trying to think will make things worst, what we need now is focus on finding a way to send the younger Eddie back or else…” Mike stopped talking as if he was hesitant about continuing.

But Richie was too scared and tired of secrets, he gave him a pleading look, “Or else what, Mikey?”

“He will stay here forever, and the more he stays the more Eddie’s memories alter.”

Bill had to sit down when he started feeling light-headed, and Audra could only worryingly look at Eddie.

“So… if mini-Eds, for example, grows up enough to be the age of when Eddie reunited with us, this Eddie, the one I love and married to, will forget about everything? About falling in love with me, about the life we have together?!”

Eddie bit his finger and took long strides across the room, staring outside of the window as he tried not to scream. Richie wanted to follow him but was careful enough to not smother him right away. If Eddie space, Richie would give it to him.

Mike sighed, “It’s like I said. The more he’s there, the more his memories become our Eddie’s.”‌

There was a pregnant silence after that statement. Everyone was receiving that information in their own way. Audra was confused and concerned, Bill was already trying to form a plan, Richie was staring at his husband’s back with a nauseating feeling, Mike felt useless and Eddie… Eddie was about to cry.

They remained quiet, none knew what to say.

Then, they were saved by the bell downstairs.

“That must be Bev and Ben,”‌ Eddie sighed, “Let’s go down before mini-me decides to open the door.”

No one hesitated to leave the heavy, tense mood around that bedroom. But Richie purposedly stayed behind with Eddie, walking slower than the others to check upon him.

“I know it’s a stupid question, but are you okay?”‌ he asked in a soft tone, leaning against him to be closer.

Eddie smiled tiredly at him, appreciating his concern, “I’ll be fine once we fix this, honey,” he reached and wrapped his hand around Richie’s, squeezing it reassuringly, “Let’s just not add another concern to our lives, okay?”

“You’re always going to be my main concern, Eds.”

Eddie stopped walking, letting the others walked ahead and down the stairs, and when he was sure they were both alone in the corridor, he leaned upward towards Richie and his husband met him halfway for a tender kiss. Richie was good at following romantic gestures that Eddie offered, he prided himself for that. Eddie smiled in the kiss and retrieved his head to give Richie a lovesick look that sent shivers down the comedian’s spine.

“I can’t imagine my life forgetting about loving you, trashmouth.”

“Then let’s fix this shit and have sex like madmen when it’s all over,” Richie stated with a grin, gladly receiving the smack across the back of his hand by Eddie’s hand.

* * *

**4:38 PM**

“Mommy, cookie,” Lydia reiterated for the third time.

“Later, sweetie, after playtime,” Beverly told her with a distant look. Her eyes were settled on a certain thirteen-year-old, and mini-Eddie was starting to become annoyed with all the staring.

It’s been roughly ten minutes since Ben and Beverly arrived with their daughter, the two-year-old was blissfully unaware of the situation as she was sat by one of the chairs next to the L-shaped couch. She was given Beverly’s phone as a form of distraction because even though her parents didn’t allow her to be more than three hours a day with her tablet, they needed Lydia to be attentive to something while they tried not to panic at the sight of the younger Eddie Kaspbrak.

They were all downstairs again. Eddie, Richie, mini-Eddie, Audra, and Beverly were sitting on the long, spacious couch, whilst Mike didn’t mean leaning against the wall with Ben.

“Who’s this?” mini-Eddie had asked as soon as Ben and Beverly were calmer after they were explained the situation and more open-minded about finding a solution instead of screaming about his presence.

He was getting tired of the yelling.

“Who?” Beverly sought, feeling her throat dry.

Mini-Eddie signed at Ben, and immediately everyone (except for Audra and Lydia) snickered. Even Ben, who had an apprehensive grimace, couldn’t hold back a smile from the innocent question.

“Here we go again,” the architect sighed.

“It’s your fault, Mr. Handsome,” Richie quipped.

“Shut up, Richie,” Beverly chided mildly, smirking at her husband, “Answer him,” she challenged.

Ben sighed and looked at mini-Eddie with a friendly expression, “You don’t recognize me?”

“No… sorry, all I know is that you’re Beverly’s husband,” the teen replied, before squinting his eyes, “And I hope you’re a good one,” he added, a little bit aggressively.

“Oh, damn!” Bill laughed, clapping his hands.

“Jesus,” Eddie blushed a little, embarrassed at what his younger self just did. Sure, he was protective of his friends but he was surprised the teen was reacting this way since where the year he comes from, he’d only known Beverly for weeks.

“Well, I do hope I am,” Ben said, not even a little bit intimidated but finding the threat cute, “And it’s me, Eddie, Ben.”

“Ben who?” the boy pressed.

“Ben Hanscom.”

No one said anything, they merely stared at the kid for a reaction.

And they got what they wanted.

“Shut the fu—fudge up!” mini-Eddie screeched, rising from the couch to point at Ben, “You’re lying! Are you really Ben?!”

To get it over it, and because he was starting to feel embarrassed for going through this once again, Ben lifted his shirt to show the scar Henry Bowers left on his stomach after carving an ‘H’, “You stitched me up, remember?”

“You got a scar from it…” mini-Eddie stated dejectedly, “I’m sorry…”

Ben covered his stomach again and gave him a surprised look,‌ “What?! No! The scarring was inevitable, you, however, didn’t allow it to get infected. Bowers used a knife that could’ve been anywhere, so thanks to you I got a scar. Nothing worst.”

That seemed to have comforted the kid, at least for now.

“Have you been feeding him well?” Beverly suddenly asked while looking directly at Richie.

Richie rolled his eyes, “Jesus man, that’s the second time we heard that question! Of course, we put the kid in our dungeon and fed him moldy bread with toilet water these past two days—YES WE FED HIM!”

“Rich, calm down!!” mini-Eddie exclaimed, bringing the attention of little Lydia to himself, “Beverly is just worried.”

“Boy!” the toddler yelled out proudly, pointing at him.

“That’s right, sweetie. He’s a boy,” Ben promptly praised.

She grinned, crawling on the couch to reach the teen, “Ah!” she squealed delightfully, “Hi!”

Richie grabbed her when she was about to crawl above his feet and gently sat her in front of mini-Eddie, who awed at the baby that would belong to Beverly and Ben.

“Hi…” he shyly said.

Lydia beamed at his response and placed her hand on his knee, “Name?”

The adults, who were watching the exchange with mixed expressions of fondness and nervousness, all looked at mini-Eddie warily. He couldn’t exactly say his real name—that would confuse the little one. And there was no need for Lydia, a two-year-old, to be involved in this situation.

“My name is…uh…” mini-Eddie couldn’t believe he was struggling to come up with a quick lie for a toddler, he looked at Richie for orientation but the comedian shrugged uselessly, “Jack? Jack. My name is Jack,” he nodded, smiling tentatively at Lydia.

“Jack! Lydia!” the blabbered happily, patting her chest.

He nodded, “Nice to meet you, Lydia,” and it was. The teen was starting to feel giddy for being the first Loser to meet one of the children of his friends.

“Aw, that’s adorable,” Audra cooed.

“Jack?” Richie snorted, “Really?”

Eddie elbowed him, “I think it’s a good name!” he told mini-Eddie with a genuine smile whilst Richie recovered from the hit, rubbing the sore zone with a sour expression.

Before anyone could say anything else, the doorbell rang for the last time for the day, signalizing that the last guests to arrive were here.

“And that’s gotta be Stan and Patty,” Richie sighed tiredly, already mentally preparing himself to witness Stan have a panic attack. They were all especially concerned about Stan’s reaction, this could go either very bad or smoothly.

* * *

**5:25 PM**

Stan hasn’t spoken in twenty minutes.

It took all the Losers to stop him from running out of the house as soon as he recognized who mini-Eddie was, Beverly and Audra were in charge of convincing Patty whilst the two took Lydia and Aviva to another room to avoid the toddlers to witness the brawling and yelling that Stan was causing.

But that all happened twenty minutes ago. Now they were all gathered around the couch, with Stan sitting between Richie and Eddie whilst the teen chose to shy away in the chair, feeling even worst than before for causing Stan’s panicking.

And now, the house was eerily quiet as mini-Eddie tried to avoid Stan’s staring. Beverly, Patty, and Audra were still gone with their daughters, waiting for someone to come for them until everything was sorted.

Shit, no one even knew if Patty believed in the situation.

“Stanley, you have to say something,” Richie tried, his voice sounded as serious as it could, “I know this is fucked up, and we all panicked as well, but we need you to get your shit together so we can think in a way to send mini-Eds back to his time.”

Ben cringed at how insensitive Richie sounded, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“Ri-Richie’s right, St-Stan.”

Stan was no longer pinning mini-Eddie with his eyes, to the relief to the teen, he looked at Bill with a pained expression, “You’re stuttering…”

Bill nodded, “It ca-came back as soon a-as I saw hi-hi-him,” the writer explained, “But that doesn’t ma-matter now.”

“It doesn’t matter?” Stan repeated softly, “Bill, don’t you get it? He’s not supposed to be here!” raising his voice a little, everyone noticed how much Stan’s hands began shaking.

“We know! Trust us, we’ve been trying to solve this situation!” Eddie quickly said, “Mike has been researching about it and—”

“What?” Stan looked at Mike and suddenly his expression shifted into a pleading one, “Mikey, please tell me you found a solution for this, I’m beginning you.”

Mike sighed before stepping closer to him, giving Stan a calm look, “I found out is that his presence isn’t Pennywise. And… that sending him back is imperative. Shortly speaking, if we don’t send E–mini-Eddie back, then our Eddie’s memories will become his.”

“Wait, what?!” mini-Eddie yelped, receiving his information for the first time, “What do you mean?!”

Stan almost jolted upward when he heard the teen speak up for the first time since he was forcefully sat on this couch by Richie, “Shit…” he whispered.

Mike turned to him now, “We were going to tell you. It seems that your future self cannot remember that day thirty years ago. It’s like his memories are all foggy.”

Mini-Eddie looked at his counterpart and when he saw the grim look on his face, it was all it took to confirm Mike’s statement.

“I’m…”

“If you apologize again, I swear to God,” Richie cut him, “It’s not your fault you’re here! Stop thinking that it is!”

Stan observed and absorbed the words that were exchange to see if he could understand better the situation,‌ “How did this happen?” he tried to sound calmer now as he addressed the teen.

Mini-Eddie then explained the whole story for the fourth time today, but he didn’t mind doing it if that meant making things at least a little bit better. He was already feeling like shit for stressing them all out on a supposed happy day.

He told Stan about what he remembered from the time he entered the Neibolt house with Richie and Bill. He got separated from them, and when he saw the leper he fell from a hole on the second floor. Stan was surprised at the part when instead of falling on the table in the kitchen, the teen fell on Richie’s and Eddie’s bed. Now that Stan thought about it throughout, it was probably best to not even mention that those two idiots were married.

“So, you didn’t break your arm,” Stan concluded as he glanced at mini-Eddie’s left arm, which was castless, “Eddie, you really don’t remember breaking your arm?”

“No.”

There was a pregnant silence, everyone was thinking about what to say next to bring hope, but no one dared to deliver such false expectation.

They were distracted by Beverly, Audra, and Patty returning to the living room, and by the pale look on Stan’s wife, they all assumed that she was at least commencing to believe in this mess. Stan arose from the couch and rushed to be by her side, and mini-Eddie couldn’t help to peek at how Stan’s wife was going to look like.

“We managed to put them down for a nap, it’s was time anyways,” Beverly notified everyone as she and Audra walked further, leaving Stan and Patty behind for them to personally talk to each other, “I think I convinced her, but Stan might do a better job.”

Audra sat next to Bill and quickly held his hand for some self-comfort, “Next year, we’re going to Hawaii,” she quipped lightly, making him smile.

“Oh my God, is that him?” they heard Patty gasp as she neared the gathering with Stan, she glanced between Eddie and mini-Eddie and let out a startled chuckle, “Oh… my God, this isn’t a prank.”

“Of course it isn’t, we wouldn’t do this to Stan!” Richie protested.

“So it’s all true, even the evil clown part?” Patty asserted, horrified at the notion.

“The clown was what did my scars, honey. IT was the reason why I…” Stan closed his eyes painfully at the memory, and he felt his wrists burn mockingly, “I almost did what I did. I was scared of going back.”

Patty laid her hands on her husband’s face, gently brushing the areas where the bite scars laid, “But you did,” she gently added.

And that was when Patty truly accepted everything. She knew Stan, or his friends would never joke about something so serious. So, if her husband was telling her that Eddie’s younger self somehow time-traveled from eighty-nine and that a child-eating shapeshifting alien exists, Patty would believe in him.

“I’m sorry for all of this…” mini-Eddie said, sounding vulnerable and small, “I never wanted to make you guys stressed out.”

They all looked at him, some with pity, but Richie rolled his eyes.

“Okay, that’s it. You’re grounded.”

“What?! You can’t ground me!” mini-Eddie protested right away.

“I’m in charge of you, I’m the adult and you are the child,” Richie retorted.

Eddie snorted, not believing he just heard Richie Tozier quote his own mother.

“Oh, fuck off!” the teen shouted.

At this point, everyone was just watching them. And the more they did, the more their tense expressions melted into amused ones. Even Stan couldn’t help but roll his eyes when he saw Richie rise from the couch to stand in front of the teen.

“Go to your room, twerp!” he orderer, gestured towards the stairs.

Mini-Eddie relaxed on the couch and crossed his legs with a smug look, “I’m already in my room,” he used his fingers to quote, “Remember, dipshit?”

“Oh, shit,” Bill laughed.

The following events managed to completely dissipate any tension from the living room. When everyone watched Richie yell and grab the teen, hoisting him over his shoulder like he was a sack of potatoes, they all knew that all the yelling and stress was over—for now, at least.

Ben tried to stop Richie, while trying not to laugh, from carrying a feral mini-Eddie upstairs. Richie was almost bitten in the hand when he covered his mouth to avoid the babies being awakened and he knew that all he had to do was drop mini-Eddie on the floor but he missed teasing him like this—Eddie, on the other hand, wasn’t amused. It took Richie to see his angry look to finally give up on the idea of putting his husband’s younger self on time out.

Only Eddie could really control the comedian.

* * *

**7:10 PM**

It was almost time for the Fourth of July firework show to begin. The display was happening over the water in Marina del Rey and the Tozier-Kaspbrak roof-top viewing deck was the perfect spot to watch the show without being smothered by the crowd.

Mini-Eddie was currently sitting on a clean carpet that was placed on the floor with the toddlers’ toys. He didn’t mind sitting with Lydia and Aviva while the twins were placed to sleep after being fed thirty minutes ago. It was something really awing to be able to interact with the daughters of his best friends.

Lydia was Ben’s and Beverly’s, and mini-Eddie was still trying to accept that. He couldn’t believe that Ben, the boy who obviously had a crush on Bev, ended up marrying AND having a baby with her. The reason why he couldn’t see it was because he noticed that his Beverly (the one from the eighties) had an obvious crush on Bill. But in the end, mini-Eddie was happy for both of them. Every time he’d steal glances from the couple they seemed like they were made for each other—which was odd in a thirteen-year-old’s perspective. He liked Lydia, she was a curious little thing, and she was smart, too.

She told Aviva about her new friend Jack, and for a second mini-Eddie had to remind himself that to these two little girls, he was Jack.

Aviva was Stan’s daughter. And from what mini-Eddie witnessed, she was slightly bossy but sweet towards Lydia. Mini-Eddie noticed that she wasn’t as much of a chatterbox as Lydia was, and even though the two were different in terms of personality, for two-year-olds they got along just well.

Mini-Eddie’s heart warmed at the thought of imagining the two growing up together with Bill’s twins. Maybe keep the Losers Club alive for a second generation? He almost chuckled at the thought.

While Lydia playing with Aviva, mini-Eddie glanced up at the adults and watched them curiously.

The table was set with potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans, tomato salad, and creamed corn—many things were cooked and brought by Patty. Then, there was a large bucket of KFC just because, apparently, it was a tradition at this point. But mini-Eddie wasn’t interested in the fried chicken, although he wanted to taste it pretty badly, what he wanted to try was Richie’s BBQ grilled chicken, grilled ranch potatoes, St. Louis style ribs, and very popular pull-apart cheeseburger sliders.

There was a cooler with many drinks, and mini-Eddie knew none of them was for kids his age. Luckily Beverly had brought plenty of apple juice packages because those were Lydia’s favorite and the toddler was kind enough to offer one to the teen herself, making Ben and Beverly proud of her sharing nature.

Ben was helping Richie with the grill, Eddie was chatting with Bill and Mike, Beverly just made Patty and Stan laugh about something and Audra was pouring herself and cup of a wine called ‘Sangria’.

Things have been calmer now that it’s been an hour ever since everyone found out about mini-Eddie’s existence. They all seemed more relaxed, and Richie was relieved that at least the stressful part was over.

When he finished cooking the meat and vegetables (Beverly brought some red and green peppers), everyone sat at the spacious table and Richie purposefully sat next to mini-Eddie, not only just to annoy him a little, but to apologize by fixing him a plate as a form of truce.

Mini-Eddie ate a piece of ribs, a cheeseburger, some potato salad, grilled ranch potatoes, and one creamed corn.

The adult Losers, Audra, and Patty chose not to comment on it.

But Eddie was especially intrigued at the choice of food his younger self decided to eat. He could already hear his mother scream about the disgusting, greasy food that couldn’t be allowed inside her precious Eddie-bear.

But Sonia wasn’t here.

Mini-Eddie was surrounded by people who made him feel genuinely loved, and even though they were the aged up version of his Losers, they were still them. So perhaps that was one of the reasons mini-Eddie didn’t bat an eye at the amount of food he asked Richie to put on his plate—he even smiled at the comedian and thanked him before waiting for everyone to have their plates full to begin eating.

Lydia and Aviva had their plates, and each parent was taking turns on feeding them so they could be allowed to eat as well.

Mini-Eddie tried to eat as much as he could, and he wanted because everything was delicious.

“Whoa, slow down mini-Eds, the food ain’t going nowhere,” Richie laughed before he bit into his corn knob.

Everyone chuckled at the sheepish expression on the teen.

“Leave him alone, Rich, he’s a growing boy,” Beverly chided him softly, winking at mini-Eddie.

“I just hope he has room left for my desserts though,” Patty sighed dramatically, guiding a spoon of potato salad towards Aviva, who opened her mouth.

Mini-Eddie perked up at her statement, so he decided to slow down and just enjoy the meal.

Ten minutes into the meal, the plates were fairly empty with some leftovers still to be eaten, but no one seemed to be in a rush to get a second plate—or in Richie’s case, the third plate.

Eddie checked his watch, “Okay guys, three minutes until the show begins,” he informed the group.

Mini-Eddie quickly moved to the edge of the viewing-deck, and he felt everyone getting behind him seconds later. They were all chatting with each other. Stan was carrying Aviva and holding hands with Patty, Ben had a grinning Lydia sitting on his broad shoulder and the other arm wrapped around Beverly’s waist, Mike was telling Bill and Audra something—the British woman quickly checked the baby camera app on her phone to see the twins were still sleeping before the show began.

Richie eyed them with a little jealously—he also wanted to hold Eddie during the show and even steal a kiss or two. And maybe he could be sneaky about it while mini-Eddie was distracted by the firework.

He tentatively reached for Eddie’s hand but as soon as their skin touch, the other pulled away and gave him a warning look.

“Richie…” he whispered with a warning tone, gesturing towards the teen with alarmed eyes.

“He’s not even looking,” Richie murmured, stepping closer, “At least… let me hold your hand?”

Eddie sighed, glancing between his younger self—who was right in front of him!!–and his pleading husband, “Only when he’s distracted by the firework,” he stated.

Richie beamed.

But then his shoulders jumped when he heard mini-Eddie’s yelling, “LOOK IT’S GONNA START!”

And as soon as he said that, the dark, starry night filled up with colors and a booming noise was heard. It didn’t sound so loud from the distance they were, but the colors were still vibrant and shiny from the deck. Almost in a cliché manner, they all awed and stared at the colorful display exploding in the sky.

Mini-Eddie leaned over the deck as if he could get closer. He had a wide grin as his doe eyes kept staring at the fireworks and he wasn’t going to stop staring until it was over—he didn’t want to risk losing a cool display even when he blinked. Seeing these fireworks was a distraction he and everyone aware of the grave situation needed. It even made mini-Eddie feel that perhaps, everything was going to be fine.

And when he got back home, he couldn’t wait to tell everyone about his adventure. They probably wouldn’t believe him, who in their right mind would? Mini-Eddie didn’t care, he was enjoying the moment, unaware of his older self bringing Richie down for a quick kiss on the lips.

“Boom!” Lydia squealed.

“Eddie!”

“That’s right sweetie, boom!” Beverly laughed.

“Eds!!”

“What?” Eddie looked at Ben questioningly, “Sorry I couldn’t hear you at first.”

“Uh?” the architect told him, puzzled, “I didn’t call you.”

Eddie frowned, “What? Someone did.”

“Eddie _fucking_ Kaspbrak!”

Mini-Eddie heard it as well, but it wasn’t coming from behind, it was coming from below the deck.

And then, he looked down and saw Richie. _His_ Richie Tozier. And seeing his dumb face, staring up at him longingly, made Eddie sense an agitation that he could only describe as his own firework show happening inside his chest. 

“Boom!” Lydia repeated enthusiastically. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why is it so hard to write toddlers


	6. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter because it's a filler. I just wanted to write something before we continue with the plot! Anyways, it's Easter Sunday here, so happy Easter everyone. I hope ya'll are safe and staying home.

**July 4th, 1989**

Richie Tozier, thirteen years old, glared down at his soon to be ex-best friend with hostility fuming behind his dark eyes. The bespectacled teen was currently being held back by Ben and Mike, two new friends of his that recently joined the Losers Club. Beverly was kneeling next to Bill, the boy that Richie had harshly injured while throwing sloppy punches blinded with rage and sorrow—and Stan stood between the two, just in case Bill wanted to retaliate.

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT, BILL! EDDIE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!”

Those were the words none of the six young teens wanted to hear, including Richie, who was the one yelling it out.

Bill, the leader of their club, rose from the hot asphalt concrete and swiped his fingers over his bloody nose. Richie struck him everywhere he could in the face once they managed to escape the Neilbolt house. They all pedaled their bikes, ominously leaving Eddie’s behind when Pennywise attacked them by using Eddie’s voice to attract them to the kitchen.

But there weren’t any signs of the hypochondriac.

And when Pennywise gleefully announced that he just had a wonderful snack—Richie saw red. And his heart-break mixed with a sense of guilt was all dropped on Bill.

“HE DIDN’T WANT TO GO IN THERE! NONE OF US WANTED, AND NOW EDDIE’S GONE!” Richie continued, his voice cracking and dropping from pure rage to more of a defeated cry, “You… made us go in there…” he continued, starting to sob as the realization that his Eddie was gone. Dead.

Bill didn’t say anything, he just kept staring at Richie with widened eyes, breathing heavily and feeling as if he was going to throw up. He could only think about how right Richie was—first he lost Georgie, and now he killed Eddie.

“WELL, SAY SOMETHING!”

“Richie, that’s enough…” Beverly sobbed, her body quivering as she looked at him with wet eyes, “Please…” she pleaded, wanting the yelling to be over before the situation could get even worst.

Richie glared at her, “Shut up, Beverly!” he shouted with indignation, “Why are you still even here? Who the fuck invited you?!” he didn’t mean it, Richie saw Beverly as a Loser—he recognized her as a friend. She was cool, she listened and she definitely was one of the people he now cares about. But Richie’s broken heart was taking over his emotions now, he could not control whatever came out of his mouth. Harmful or not.

Beverly looked away, hurt and upset.

“Richie!” Stan yelled, “I know you’re in pain, but don’t forget Eddie was our friend too. We’re all—”

Richie laughed loudly, but there was no humor in his tone, “Of course, fucking Stan the man has to act like the fucking saint! Shut up! EVERYONE JUST LEAVE THE ME FUCK ALONE FOREVER!” he shrugged off Mike and Ben’s hold and started walking away from them, cleaning his tears even though they wouldn’t stop pouring from his eyes, “YOU GUYS ARE A BUNCH OF LOSERS! And you Bill?” he turned around, giving his now ex-best friend an odious glare, “You’re a fucking murderer.”

He turned back, grabbed his bike and rode it away towards the Kissing Bridge. He didn’t know why he wanted to go there, but he needed a place to be alone. He wanted to see the carving again and remind himself that now, he would not be able to tell Eddie about his disgusting, homosexual feelings towards him.

In his mind, all he could think was _Fuck the Losers Club. Fuck everything and everyone. Fuck that clown. Fuck Bill. Fuck Georgie._

_Fuck my life._

* * *

**July 6th, 1989**

For the remaining two days, Richie Tozier was hollow.

He was in a state of self-isolation and his personality shifted drastically from an ill-mannered boy with a goofy grin and joyful aura to a dull kid, who refused to eat and leave his bed, growing silent.

Just like a ventriloquist’s dummy, Richie felt as if someone else was controlling his body whenever he had to drag himself to the bathroom.

His parents were disturbed. Their son’s drastic mood change couldn’t be related to puberty, it was too abrupt and out of nowhere. They tried asking Richie what was bothering him, but they haven’t heard their son speak ever since he returned home from the fourth of July parade.

But then they found out that Edward Kaspbrak went missing, reported by his wandering and frantic mother as she roamed the streets, shoving missing posters of her son to any bystander's arms while sobbing her heart out.

It all made sense, Richie must’ve found out about it. Wentworth and Maggie recognized the close connection he had with Eddie, so they became concerned over their son’s mental health for the first time in their lives. Gone were the Hawaiian shirts, the rude sex jokes, the annoying pun battle Maggie had to endure at the dinner table between her husband and her son.

She secretly liked those, the table was always filled with a good mood.

Maggie even tried cooking Richie’s favorite dish—but the plate was left untouched and unmoved in front of Richie’s door.

For two days, Richie didn’t leave his bedroom. Maggie cried when she saw her son sitting on his bed, listening to ‘Eddie my Love’ while staring at the wall with dull eyes. It was a hopeless sight to see.

Her son’s health was decreasing, with noticeable puffy, red eyes from crying so much, dark circles, and a complexion paler than ever. Richie was punishing himself, and if he continued refusing to eat for another day, Maggie and Wentworth would have no choice but to take him to the hospital.

For two days, everyone in Derry saw more of Sonia Kaspbrak as she dutifully went door to door asking everyone if they had seen her baby. She thought the police were useless, which was partly correct. There have been many kids disappearing before Eddie, so they weren’t treating it as a special case.

Then, Stan came to visit.

Maggie was fond of Stanley Uris, he was Richie’s most polite friend and she liked him for being a good example in her son’s life. She warned him that Richie didn’t allow anyone inside his bedroom and even if he did, he wouldn’t speak.

Stan seemed persistent, so Maggie led him upstairs. She knocked on her son’s door, and expectantly there was no response. Stan asked if it was okay for him to go inside anyway, and since they were close friends, Maggie allowed it.

Stanley and Richie’s friendship is eight years old—they met when they were five. Maggie and Wentworth knew that, hopefully, they would be in each other’s lives forever. Eddie was also Stan’s friend, and Maggie thought that this could be the perfect opportunity for her son to finally react to something—anything. The house has been quiet, too quiet. And even though Maggie wished for it to happen many times when Richie was acting wildly—she now wanted the noise to return more than ever.

Maggie opened the door and turned on the lights. She cringed at the smell inside Richie’s room. With the window closed and without taking any shower, the scent was of sweat, morning breath, and something she could not identify.

She was embarrassed and avoided looking at her guest while bolting across the room, opening her son’s window to let the disgusting and stuffy air out of the bedroom. She was prepared to scold him, but her heart dropped when she saw his bed empty.

“Richie?” she called out, “Oh, maybe he’s in the bathroom…” she wondered.

“We passed by the bathroom, Mrs. Tozier, he wasn’t there,” Stan told her helpfully. He was staring at the bed with a pensive expression.

Maggie began panicking, she didn’t hear anyone leave the house after her husband went to work, she took a deep breath and smiled tightly, “Wait here for a moment, dear,” she said before walking past him, to go search for her son around the house.

Stan, left behind in Richie’s room, crumbled as soon as she was gone. He took quick steps towards Richie’s bed and looked under the pillow, expecting to find a note. Stan’s first idea of where Richie had gone to was definitely after Pennywise, in hopes of finding Eddie still alive. If that was the case, Stan needed to warn the Losers and accept the fact that Bill was right, they needed to kill IT before it took more victims.

Stan didn’t want to lose any more friends. He already lost Eddie, he didn’t want to lose Richie—his stupid, goofy, big-hearted idiot of a friend that was alone for two days after losing Eddie. He had felt so shitty for feeling sorry for himself, he almost forgot how close Richie was to Eddie, and Stan wanted to make things right after that huge fight.

“Richard, where are you?!” he heard Maggie yell desperately from downstairs.

He was ready to leave, to go to Bill’s and hopefully get to Richie before it was too late, but as he turned around, a ray of sunlight glared towards his eyes. He winced and looked at the nightstand, and to his complete surprise, Richie’s glasses were there.

“Oh, fuck.”

* * *

**July 4th, 2019**

**7:44 PM**

Even without his glasses, thirteen-year-old Richie could clearly see that the boy staring at him from the roof was his Eddie.

“Richie?!” mini-Eddie squeaked from the viewing deck.

Mini-Richie laughed out loud, even though his throat hurt from not receiving its proper hydration, “Of course it’s me, asshole, where have…” inwardly, mini-Richie cursed. He was starting to feel dizzy as his vision began to blur even worst than it was without his glasses, “…you been…?” he managed to slur, his eyes were unfocused now.

“Dude, are you okay? Stay down there, I’ll go down!” he heard the supposed dead boy exclaim fretfully.

Mini-Richie grinned deliriously. His first thought was that he was dreaming—and that unfortunately, he was about to wake up. Or maybe he was dead and he could see Eddie because this was Heaven. Then again, boys like him couldn’t end up there, right? Sinners don’t belong in Heaven.

“Oh my God, he’s wobbling!” a female voice said from up there. Mini-Richie didn’t recognize the adult that worried over his sake, but her voice was genuinely caring, “Go help mini-Eddie, Richie!”

“What?” the thirteen-year-old mumbled confusedly before he fell backward, the back of his head hit the grass but it still fell hard on it.

“Rich!”

Looking up at the dark sky, mini-Richie noticed colors such as green, yellow, and red echoing from south of the house. His ears were ringing at this point, but he could hear faraway booming sounds that had a connection with either a cannon or fireworks. He smiled dazed, it was so pretty.

Then, the view got better.

His Eddie’s face appeared right in front of it, blocking the sky. But mini-Richie welcomed it. There he was, with his combed hair, scattered freckles across his cheeks and cute thick eyebrows. Mini-Eddie’s eyes were scanning him attentively, and mini-Richie’s almost jolted his entire body when he felt his cheeks being cupped by his Eddie’s smaller hands.

“Rich, where are your glasses?”

“…home,” he managed to reply, smiling widely, “I’m dreaming, I don’t need glasses.”

His Eddie frowned, looking even more concerned, “Richie… you’re not…”

The rest was a blur. Before he could hear whatever dream Eddie was about to say, mini-Richie lost his consciousness. Two days without food and barely any water took a toll on his growing body. All he could inwardly think was that if he was dreaming, next time he wouldn’t want to wake up at all. If he woke up on his bed without his Eddie being alive—he didn’t want to wake up.

Mini-Eddie panicked as soon his best friend fainted, he was still gently cradling his cheeks between his palms, shaking his head slightly, “Rich? Richie!! Wake up!!” he called out frantically, scared that his state was too severe for him to wake up again, “Please…” he whined.

“Mini-Eds!” he heard adult Richie call out as he approached from behind, “What happened to… me?” he awkwardly asked as he stood next to the two teens.

“I don’t know,” mini-Eddie sniffed, “He’s so pale, do you think he’s hurt?” looking up at the future self of his best friend, the thirteen-year-old’s expression was lost and frightened.

Richie’s heart tugged painfully at his face, “I don’t know,” he replied helplessly, “But let me take him inside, maybe he just needs to rest.”

“Okay…” mini-Eddie sighed, standing up and stare at his best friend with a concerned look.

Richie picked his younger self up from the grass, mentally finding the kid too heavy for a scrawny thing, and tried not to stare too much into mini-Richie’s face. As mini-Eddie pushed the door open so he could walk inside the house again, everyone was gathering by the living room and the reaction to mini-Richie was instantaneous.

“Je-Jesus C-Christ!” Bill sputtered, “Now it’s Richie?!”

Mike sighed while Eddie moved to the couch before Richie walked towards it. He grabbed one of the cushions and positioned it to be under mini-Richie’s head as the comedian placed the unconscious kid on the L part of the sofa.

“Is he okay?” Beverly asked nervously, “What happened, mini-Eddie?” the redhead asked him.

Mini-Eddie looked like he was about to cry and he shrugged, “I don’t know… he seemed so weak. And he was talking weirdly, too.”

Stan stepped in, regarding mini-Richie, “Did he spoke in a slurred manner?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“He looks really pale, and look at those dark circles under his eyes,” Eddie suddenly commented as he kneeled next to where the kid was currently lying down, “Do you think something went wrong when he time-traveled?” he asked out loud as he placed a hand on his forehead, “He doesn’t have a fever, so he can’t be sick, right?” he desperately claimed to comfort himself.

Eddie didn’t like seeing him like this. Last time he saw Richie having dark circles was three years ago—before they got together. After defeating IT, both of them had nightmares but they were able to stop having them by giving each other support and therapy. They don’t need therapy anymore, and Eddie has given Richie a healthier lifestyle and allowed both of them to be in better shape and emotional control. They might not be vegetarians or vegans, but they ate healthily. So, for Eddie to see mini-Richie looking so weak and ill was sending Eddie in a place that resembled his life before realizing he was in love with Richie Tozier.

“Maybe we should take him to the hospital?” Patty suggested.

Ben shook his head at her, “Not a good idea, he doesn’t even exist in our year.”

“Yeah, are we suppose to tell the doctor that he’s my younger self? That’s a direct invitation to the sanitarium,” Richie snorted bitterly.

“Richie shut the fuck up,” Eddie hissed, nervously eyeing Stan for a second before addressing Patty with a softer tone, “Taking him to the hospital would be ideal, but as Ben said, it’s not a good idea. No one besides us should know about this.”

Everyone didn’t say a word before mini-Eddie sat on the remaining space next to his Richie, “I think everyone knows what this means.”

“What do you me-mean?” Bill inquired.

“Everyone is gonna start showing up. I was first, Richie was second and now it’s a matter of time until someone else gets here as well,” the thirteen-year-old explained, quite maturely.

Richie blanched, “Yeah, I kinda figured that out.”

“Mommy, who this?” Lydia suddenly asked, and she startled Richie when the toddler appeared out of nowhere next to his sleeping younger self.

Beverly didn’t know what to say at that, she looked around for some help and her friends were as helpless.

“He’s my friend. His name is Finn,” mini-Eddie told her quickly, smiling tightly.

“Finn!” she repeated happily.

“Finn!” Aviva followed quickly, walking in a wobbly manner to stand next to her.

“Yeah!” Lydia giggled at her friend, pleased that she was copying her.

They couldn’t help but beam at their exchange, and mini-Eddie almost let out an embarrassing ‘aw’. He had to admit that his friends’ future kids were adorable. When he was watching the twins being fed two hours ago he saw that both of them had Bill’s striking blue eyes but Audra’s red hair—except George’s hair was darker.

Ben smiled down at the two, “Let’s keep it down, okay guys? Finn is sleeping.”

“Oh, otay!” Aviva nodded, “Sssh!!” she shushed Lydia.

“Sssh!!” the two-year-old mimicked.

Beverly sighed contently, feeling appreciative that the two innocent toddlers could bring a welcoming distraction from this whole messy ordeal, “And with that, it’s time to get ready to go to bed,” she announced.

Stan nodded, checking the time on his wristwatch, “Aunt Bev is right, baby dove,” he ignored his daughter’s pouty face when he walked up to her and gently picked her from the floor, kissing her chubby cheeks instantly, “Don’t make that face, you know you’re tired,” he told her as a matter-of-factly.

“No, ‘m not!” Aviva retaliated, but her proclaim was defective when a yawn was followed afterward.

“Avi, metuka, don’t you want daddy to tell you a bedtime story?” Patty said softly as she stood by her husband’s side, gently touching a hand over her daughter’s curls.

Aviva lightened up, nodding as she changed her mind.

“Sleep time!” Lydia announced in her bubbly manner as she extended her arms towards her mom ready to be picked up as well.

Everyone watched as Stan and Patty disappeared into their room with Aviva. Ben and Beverly tagged along with Lydia—the two toddlers wanted to brush their teeth and get into their pajamas together. And there was no negotiation. When those two little girls were united they were attached. Eddie could even say they were clingy of each other. It was expected since the only way they could talk was through FaceTime. Some could say a long-distance friendship couldn’t last, as they would drift away, but Lydia and Aviva proved everyone wrong just at the age of two years old.

At least, for now.

Mini-Eddie was still sitting next to the motionless Richie, watching him with an unreadable face. Bill and Audra glanced at each other before the British actress nodded at him.

“Perhaps I should go check on the twins,” she told everyone before walking away.

“I’ll go with her,” Bill managed to say, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as he spun around to follow his face, nearly stumbling on his ass after tripping on the carpet.

For now, it was only Eddie and Richie with his younger selves and Mike, who was staring at the wall with a pensive expression laced with guilt.

Richie regarded his look, and sat next to the librarian, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, Miguel, don’t worry so much about this right now. I think the best we can do is sleep and deal with it tomorrow,” he sighed while delivering a consoling pat.

Mike laughed, huffing through his nose before giving Richie a tired, but genuine smile, “Yeah, I know.”

Eddie crossed his arms, stepping closer to them, “It’s not your fault, Mike. You know that, right?”

Before Mike could reply, mini-Eddie stepped in, appearing next to his future self with a panicked look, “Yeah! Totally!! This isn’t your fault, Mikey! If there’s anyone to blame, then it’s—”

Richie gave the teen a challenging look, “I dare you—so help me, mini-Eduardo, I will ground you again.”

Mini-Eddie looked taken back, but instead of countering against Richie he refrained from finish what he was about to say, letting his shoulders drop with defeat, “Whatever.”

“Get your whatever sorry ass upstairs and change into your pajamas,” Richie told him.

“What?! But it’s not even nine yet!” mini-Eddie complained, giving him a scandalized look.

“So what?”

“So what?! I’m not sleepy and it’s a summer night, fuckhead!”

“I’m not telling you to go to bed, idiot,” Richie grumbled lightly, vaguely remembering throwing these words at the teen yesterday. He was kinda proud that mini-Eddie was rebelling a little about his sleep schedule. That was something his mother had control over in the past.

“Speaking of which!” Eddie smartly interrupted, he wasn’t in the mood to witness his husband bicker with his younger self, again,“ I have to go find some sheets to make yours…” he then looked at mini-Richie, “and his bed,” he added with a softer tone. He looked so small and vulnerable—Eddie felt his heart tug. And he knew his younger self felt like this as well, the kid just wasn’t as aware of why he had these feelings yet.

“I’m gonna go back to the rooftop to start bringing the leftovers to the kitchen,” Mike quickly offered, standing up from the couch.

The two husbands complained at once.

“No, Mike! You’re a guest!”/“Buddy, you don’t have to, we’ll do that.”

Mike chuckled, seemingly not backing away, “No, it’s okay. I need to distract myself anyways. I don’t mind, really!” he assured them both.

“I can help!” mini-Eddie volunteered quickly.

The adults looked at him, surprised.

The teen looked offended at that, “Why the shock? I’m not lazy.”

* * *

**8:22 PM**

Eddie huffed as he fetched as many covers and blankets as he could from the linen cabinet inside his bathroom. They smelled like lavender so, in his mind, he knew that was still freshly washed. Still, he wanted to offer the best for those two kids downstairs so he was inclined to put them in the washing machine again.

He stopped himself, though. There was no time, he already saw his mini-self trying to stifle a yawn. Eddie didn’t blame him, the teen was used to sleeping early.

However, he was more concerned about mini-Richie at the moment. He still hasn’t wakened up and by the looks of it, he won’t be opened his eyes at least until a long time has passed. He just hoped the kid wouldn’t wake up in the middle of the night and freak out as mini-Eddie did.

“Hey.”

Startled, Eddie almost dropped what he was carrying when he turned around to see Beverly standing in the doorway.

“Jesus, Bev! You scared the shit outta me!” he exclaimed, wanting to put a hand over his chest to calm down his hammering heart.

Beverly grinned, amused. Eddie noticed that she was already in her pajamas, donning a satin long PJ set from Marsh Designs. Ever since Beverly got the divorce, she was able to take back her company’s name and leave Tom Rogan with nothing. Last time they all heard about that fucker, he was still in Chicago drowning in debt for getting a loan from the wrong people.

“I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to check up on you,” she said with a hushed tone as if they were talking in secret, “And also, I wanted to ask you something and I’m glad I caught you alone.”

Eddie was now trying to hide how nervous he quickly became. Everyone in their dysfunctional family knew how observant Beverly was, so he became wary of what she was about to say, “Yeah?”

She nodded and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, “Eds, you know you can talk to me, right?” she began, turning around to face him with a gentle smile, “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been acting.”

“What are you talking about, Bev?” he groaned, feeling both disoriented and cautious simultaneously.

She bit her lower lip, hesitating a moment before speaking, “How long have you been wanting to be a dad?”

“Oh, Jesus,” the man dropped the covers from shock, “Oh, fuck!” he hissed, quickly bending down to pick them up as if the floor was dirty—the flooring would always be clean as long as he was alive, “Bev—I, you—Goddamit, you’re scary!” he finally managed to let out between his stuttering.

Choosing not to be affected by his panicking, Beverly shrugged and casually leaned back into the door with her arms crossed, “I’m sorry, hon, but I can’t help to notice shit from time to time.”

Eddie sighed, staring at the white covers, feeling like a kid avoiding their mother’s eyes when she was scolding them, “Look, it’s complicated.”

“Why?”

Instead of answering, Eddie shook his head and gave her a perplexed look, “Wait a fucking minute, how did you even—”

“I saw how nurturing you were being towards your younger self. And to mini-Richie as well—and the kid has just arrived. Ben and I also keep talking about how eager you are about having so many babies in your house, and I’ve seen the way you look at Audra and Bill when they’re feeding the twins—you imagine yourself holding a baby, don’t you?”

Eddie sighed sadly, settling down the covers on one of the sink counters to give her a pitiful look, “I want a baby so badly…” he finally admitted. Not only to Beverly but officially to himself. Before this was only kept inside his mind and Eddie knew it would take a long time for him to finally bring it up with Richie. Perhaps he could’ve already found the courage to do it if it wasn’t for the fact of how the situation they were all facing required more attention than his wish of becoming a dad, “I’ve been wanting to talk to Richie about it for so long, but…”

Beverly walked towards him, reaching and holding his hand in a supporting manner, “But?”

“But I’m scared, Bev,” he told her, his voice cracked slightly as tears began forming in the corner of his eyes, “I’m so scared Richie won’t like it, that this might become a wall that I’ll plant between us—out first serious fight. Whatever, I’m just afraid bringing it up to him will ruin everything—as if—” Eddie looked like he was scrambling for words, and his grip on Beverly’s hand tightened

“Okay, Eds, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Beverly cut in, looking mildly upset, “Honey, Richie would never be angry at you because you want a baby. This is a man that loves you more than anything and vowed to be with you for better or worst—remember?”

“Yeah, I know… but—”

“But, nothing!” she insisted, now placing both of her hands on his cheeks, squeezing them together so Eddie couldn’t speak. She could feel the scar from Henry’s knife on her palm, and it was strange that mini-Eddie hasn’t asked about it, but right now Beverly wanted to focus on making her friend feel better, “Richie loves kids. Even though he doesn’t know how to talk to them, he loves working with them. You know what—he didn’t shut up about that kid actor he did the movie with,” she saw Eddie roll his teary eyes, smiling slightly, “I can’t tell you if Richie would say yes, I can’t read his mind, but I can assure you of one thing, he would never make you feel bad for wanting to be a dad.”

Eddie began sobbing, leaning into her hands as tears began sliding down his squeezed cheeks.

“Oh, honey, come here,” she whispered sadly, pulling him into a hug to which Eddie welcomed urgently, “You can’t keep this inside of yourself forever. Talk to him when things have calmed down, you’ll see that I was right.”

“Thanks, Bev,” he meekly mumbled as he stepped back from the hug, “God, I feel so stupid for crying,” he chuckled as he swiped the tears away from his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Don’t. Seriously, don’t even say that. I cry with Ben at least once a month and it’s therapeutical for us,” she easily confessed, almost chuckling at Eddie’s surprised look after he learned something so personal about her life, “Anyways, Lydia and Aviva decided to sleep together—and Ben and I are also getting into bed, we’re tired from all the traveling. I came here to tell you good night.”

“And to make me cry like a baby after playing detective again,” Eddie deadpanned with no malice in his tone.

Beverly laughed wholeheartedly as she turned around, opening the door again, “Good night, Eds.”

He smiled warmly, “Good night, Bev.”

* * *

**9:02 PM**

“You think he’ll be okay?” Mini-Eddie asked as he glanced at the sleeping teen again. He couldn’t pay attention to whatever show was on the television, not when his Richie was probably dying.

Richie hummed, finding himself distracted as well, “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. But since I’m not dead yet, I can assume my mini-self isn’t either.”

Mini-Eddie hasn’t even considered that as he straightened his back and gave Richie an awed look, “Holy shit dude, do you think if I pinch his arm, you’ll feel it?”

Richie let out a guffaw, “What?! No, that’s not how it works, dummy.”

It has now been almost one hour ever since Eddie made a make-shift bed on the L-couch. Mini-Eddie, now in his pajamas and with his teeth brushed, was currently under a linen blanket (it was still warm at night) with his head next to mini-Richie’s and with the future Richie sitting at the end of his feet. Eddie had placed a blanket over the unconscious teen and checked for his temperature with a proper thermometer instead of just using his hand. Even though mini-Richie showed no signs of having a fever, Eddie was still anxious about his state.

The man had gone upstairs to change into his pajamas as well, and Richie had briefly said he’d be up in the minute as well. If Richie was being honest, he didn’t want to leave mini-Eddie along with his younger self. He was slightly anxious about what could happen in the middle of the night if mini-Richie wakes up.

He knew himself. Richie was aware of how explosive he was as a kid and teen—of how he acted when he was scared or defensive.

“Hey, Rich?” he heard mini-Eddie call out, suddenly yawning as well.

Richie followed soon after because that shit was contagious, “What’s up, buddy?”

“Do you think that the reason I’m here, or the Richie from my year is here, is because we both died?”

He shuddered, feeling the skin on his arms begin to crawl, “And what kind of fucked up question is that?” he retorted, mildly upset, “Of course I don’t think that!”

“Sssh! Everyone’s asleep, dipshit!” mini-Eddie rebuked, slightly nervous that he made Richie _that_ bothered, “It was just a question.”

“Pretty stupid fucking question, if you ask me.”

“There’s no stupid question, asshole, only stupid answers,” mini-Eddie riposted quickly.

Richie tried his best not to smile at the comeback, “You always have what to say under your tongue, don’t you?”

“Fuck off,” the kid told him softly, shifting to lay sideways, “Literally, go away. I wanna sleep,” he closed his eyes with an annoyed look, “You should go sleep as well, you’re an old man and you need to sleep early to remember your own name tomorrow.”

“Haha, fuck you.”

Mini-Eddie let out a chuckle as he heard Richie turning off the television, even with his eyes closed he could feel the comedian rise from the couch and passing by him, “Respect your elders, kid.”

The teen smiled widely, “Good night, Rich.”

“Good night, mini-Eds,” Richie bid him good-naturedly before turning off the lights of the area downstairs, “If he wakes up, scream as if your mom is trying to clean your face with her own spit.”

“Ew! Fucking gross!!” mini-Eddie cried from the couch, making Richie grin as he went up the stairs, into the second-floor.

He walked down the corridor, being as quiet as possible as he passed by the room Mike was sleeping, and as sneakily as he could, Richie opened the door of his suite and hurried inside, closing it as noiselessly as he could as if he was a kid creeping inside his parents’ room in search of finding his Christmas presents.

He heard a snort coming from the bed, and looking handsome as ever, Richie beamed at his husband.

“This is a weird way to spicy our relationship, me sneaking into your room at night,” Richie said as he walked towards the bed, flopping onto it with a tired smile.

Eddie placed a hand over his messy hair, affectionately scratching his scalp, “All you need is to climb my window.”

“Oh, I like that!” Richie purred as he shut his eyes, “Can we skip to the part we make-out?”

Eddie chuckled, but slightly forcefully. He wasn’t in the mood for anything other than sleep and hopefully wake up refreshed tomorrow. Because today had been mentally draining for him after the conversation he had with Beverly, “Not tonight, Rich. I’m kinda tired, I was just waiting for you to sleep.”

“Aw, Eds, you could’ve gone to bed without me…” Richie told him softly, opening his eyes to look up at his husband adoringly.

“I know, I just wanted to cuddle…” Eddie admitted with a whisper as his cheeks reddened slightly.

“What did you say?” Richie rose at once, sitting in the bed to give him an eager expression.

“You heard me,” his husband grumbled, “Get your ass out of those clothes and cuddle me, idiot.”

Richie didn’t need to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Metuka: sweetie in Hebrew. And yes, I headcanon Patty being Jewish as well.
> 
> Also, I made a Tumblr just for this story! And that's weird because I never did that before. Can you guys feel how into this story I am? Anyways.... if you could go and follow budaiowriter.tumblr.com!


	7. Where Is My Mind?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update (again)!
> 
> Reminder, I have a Tumblr! 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/budaiowriter
> 
> Ask me stuff about my story, such as theories and things you'd like to see the mini-losers do in the future :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Self-homophobic inner thoughts.
> 
> NOTE: I am very sleepy as I post this. I managed to finish it at almost 3am and I've been falling asleep at 11pm every day so I am in zombie mode and probably passed out sleeping while you read this.
> 
> I will make grammar corrections tomorrow. For now, enjoy <3

**July 5th, 2019**

**3:33 AM**

They say that if you wake up suddenly at three in the morning, it’s because someone (or something) was staring at you, in the darkness of the room.

Thirteen-year-old Eddie only managed to fall asleep an hour ago, he has been watching his Richie intently, scared that he’d stop seeing his chest moving along with his breathing—he was paranoid about mini-Richie’s sake, and his anxiety did not allow him to fall asleep even when he was environed by silence and comfortable darkness dimly lit by moonlight.

He had fallen asleep, but then he woke up with the feeling of something wet dripping on his cheek. It wasn’t enough to scare him awake as if someone had thrown a glass of water to his face; it felt like a bead. But it was enough to prompt him to open his eyes.

Even when the lights were out, mini-Eddie could see the shape of his Richie staring down at him. His expression, however, was harder to see. But between the sobbing and the tears that followed soon after the first one, he could tell that his Richie was crying. Mini-Eddie’s stomach dropped, not because he realized that his friend was on top of him, but because he was weeping without holding back.

“Rich…” mini-Eddie began, trying to sound as gentle as he could. He reminisced how he felt when he blipped thirty years into the future, and it’s not a fun experience. It is very disorienting and it can fuck with your mind. So, all he wanted right now was to assure mini-Richie that everything was going to be okay and smoothly explain things to avoid waking up everyone that was sleeping at the moment, “You’re fine. Just take a deep breath, okay?” the brunette said, reaching his hand to pat his friend on the head as a comforting gesture.

He almost recoiled it when he felt the grease on the hair between his fingers.

“Eddie… Eds… Eddie…” mini-Richie muttered quickly, “Eds, Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Eddie, Edward— _Eddie!!_ ” he suddenly cried, leaning into the other’s hand as if his life depended on it, “You’re alive…” mini-Richie’s voice was gravelly, and he let out a coughing fit from using his dry throat to speak for the first time in days.

Fortunately for mini-Eddie, he turned his head away to avoid hacking right into his face.

“Jesus, Richie…” he wheezed, worried about how hard it sounded, “Do you need water?!”

Instead of getting an answer, mini-Eddie huffed when his Richie suddenly plummeted his body on him. He tensed up when his friend rested his head on his chest, facing the coffee table. Mini-Eddie could see his nose, but right now he needed to locate a source of light to assess his friend’s condition better.

“Rich, I need to get up.”

“You were dead,”‌ his voice cracking caught Eddie’s attention, and he blanched as mini-Richie resumed talking, “For two days, I thought the clown had gotten you.”

Despite how heavy his body felt, mini-Eddie succeeded to shift his upper body up, using his elbows to raise his torso while focusing on his friend, “IT didn’t get me,” he tried to console with a soft tone, but inwardly, mini-Eddie still had some doubts that IT did and that this was only a long hallucination caused by the clown to torture him. But for his Richie, he had to remain calm and positive, “I’m here.”

The usually goofy boy finally peered up again and mini-Eddie’s heart clenched painfully at the sight of his discouraged expression.

Mini-Eddie has seen him cry at least twice—when his Richie’s pet hamster died and on _that_ night. But that happened a long time ago, so for mini-Eddie to see him cry after all they went through was a sight he never wanted to witness again.

“IreallythoughtyouweregoneIwasgonnagoaftertheclownbymyselfand—”

He reached towards his face, stopping his incoherent rambling, cupping his cheeks carefully between his palms and brushing mini-Richie’s tears away with his thumbs, “It’s real, Rich. I’m real.”

If mini-Richie wasn’t in the middle of a panic attack, he would’ve either teased his shorter friend about the affectionate display or take it earnestly and just enjoy the fact that Eddie Kaspbrak was willingly touching him—if he knew he was a repugnant little faggot, mini-Richie wondered if he would still treat him the same.

While he reflected, mini-Eddie seized the opportunity that the other was distracted to sit properly, “Move, please,” he told his friend.

This time, mini-Richie submitted. He reluctantly got off him and sat back, allowing his Eddie to take his blanket from his body and leave the couch. He wondered if his actions had disgusted him. His blurred sight watched as his shorter friend circled the couch and walked into the darkness, and before he could panic about losing mini-Eddie again, his winced at the sudden light above him.

Mini-Eddie didn’t turn on all of the lights, only illuminating the area around the lounge and kitchen.

Seeing his Eddie walk back to him, now more visible under the light, made mini-Richie stare.

Mini-Eddie stared back, “Richie, you look like shit,” he told him sadly.

The other let a single fresh tear fall during his stupor, then he bolted from the couch (startling mini-Eddie) and hugged him tightly, pressing his face to Eddie’s hair and thanking every fucking deity in existence that this was real and happening. His Eddie was alive. His hair was still soft.

It took a few sobs and mini-Eddie returning the embrace reassuringly to get the crying to break into a few sniffles.

“Hey Rich, tell me about what happened after I left,” curiosity or not, mini-Eddie just wanted to distract his friend. He broke the hug to look directly to his face, “I’ll give you some food, and you’ll tell me, okay?”

Food. Now that mini-Richie’s body felt a sense of relief for the first time in two days, it started to act out like a neglected child. The kid was literally starving, “Sure, I haven’t eaten in days—”

“You _what?!_ ”

Mini-Richie winced as he watched his supposedly dead friend/crush march towards him, stomping, “You fucking what?!” the shorter teen hissed, getting his face close to mini-Richie’s.

The other didn’t know where to concentrate: either was on how much he regretted telling mini-Eddie about his self-starvation or on how close Eddie’s brown, doe eyes were to his face. He decided to look away and shrug, “I… just couldn’t eat. I couldn’t do anything… You were gone.” he meekly added.

Mini-Eddie’s angry features softened, and he stared at his friend as he slowly realized that he was the cause of mini-Richie’s degrading health, “Rich… were you really that upset?”

The future stand-up comedian looked at him in an outraged manner, “Of course I was!! I—You!! I can’t believe you said that! You’re my best friend, Eddie! I’d be fucking devasted if I ever lost you for real, I couldn’t even breathe! I beat the shit outta Bill and—” while he was finally letting everything out, he noticed mini-Eddie staring up at him in an awed and startling way, but he didn’t care, he was so worked up on what the brunette had said that he needed to defend his actions without letting out his disgusting crush on him.

Mini-Eddie let out a loud, exasperated sigh that made the other flinch.

It wasn’t targetted towards mini-Richie, but he sure felt as if it was. It shut him up instantly, thinking that he was annoying his Eddie with his outburst. He shouldn’t care so much, because boys weren’t allowed to do that—to show weakness. To cry in front of others. For fuck’s sake, he was supposed to be the friend who never takes things seriously.

Mini-Richie felt someone seize his hand, and he felt his skin crawl when he realized his Eddie was now walking somewhere, dragging him along with him towards what seemed to be a kitchen. Mini-Richie didn’t like that his Eddie didn’t comment on his bothersome eruption, it made him anxious and inwardly feel as if he had weirded him out.

“First things first, you’re going to eat something and drink a lot of water as well. Then, I’ll explain everything,” Mini-Eddie began as he helped mini-Richie sit on one of the island’s stools, “After you feel better, we’ll talk. But for now, I want you to use your trashmouth to eat and listen to me, nothing else, okay?”

“But—”

“Shut up, Rich! I’m serious!” the shorter teen snapped softly as he opened the fridge, “Look, I’m not mad. I’m just worried about you. Your body needs to recover and the sooner it does, the sooner you’ll feel better,” he told him as a pulled out a plate of BBQ grilled chicken and potato salad leftovers, “I’m sure they won’t mind if you have some of this,” mini-Eddie mumbled, mostly to himself.

Mini-Richie eyed the plates placed in front of him and for the first time in two days, he felt hunger, “Holy shit that looks good.”

The other grabbed a clean plate from the dishwasher and started serving his friend, making mini-Richie blush a little as he watched his Eddie put a lot of food in it before placing it inside the microwave to warm it up. They were both silent as the microwave hummed in the background, and mini-Richie wanted to break the tense air by throwing a quip. But he found himself watching his Eddie put the plates of food back inside the fridge instead, in awe at how comfortable he looked in a stranger’s kitchen.

Speaking of which, mini-Richie was beginning to be aware of his surroundings. Noticing the high-tech that didn’t exist yet and beginning to wonder just where in the hell he and his friend were. He wanted to make so many questions but his stomaching grumbling for food felt more important to him.

Mini-Eddie opening the microwave before it beeped brought the teen’s attention back to him. He wanted as his Eddie took the plate from it and brought it to him with a small smile. Maybe he was happy that he wasn’t complaining too much about not know where he was, but mini-Richie felt, once again, butterflies in his stomach to see mini-Eddie genuinely being happy around him—and not annoyed, for once.

“Here, eat this,” teen Eddie said as he settled the plate in front of him, “I tried it, it’s really good. I mean, it’s not healthy to eat this stuff at three in the morning but whatever,”‌ he sighed, taking a seat next to him and trying to hold in a yawn.

Mini-Richie didn’t say anything, he uncharacteristically obeyed and grabbed one of the pulled cheeseburgers, taking a small bite before his eyes widened at the flavor. Maybe it was because he hasn’t eaten in days, or perhaps was because of his love for fast-food—but mini-Eddie stared in awe when he noticed his friend devour the cheeseburger as if his mouth was a vacuum.

“Dude! At least chew it!! And slow the fuck down!” the brunette exclaimed nervously.

The other seemed indifferent at the speed which he was eating with, this was him feeling relief for the first time in days—his Eddie was alive and he was eating some delicious food. Mini-Richie was so focused on satisfying his hunger that he didn’t even notice mini-Eddie stand from his stool to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, fearing that his erratic friend would choke any moment.

When he returned to his seat, mini-Richie had devoured two of the cheeseburgers and he was now working on finishing the potato salad Patty made.

“Here’s some water if you need it,”‌ the brunette sighed offhandedly, giving up on the idea of trying to insist for his Richie to take it slow.

At least five minutes passed of watching him eat, and when mini-Richie was done, he gladly grabbed the water bottle, uncapped it, and sipped from it until it was half-empty. As if he was expecting it from knowing him for years, mini-Eddie rolled his eyes knowingly when his friend let out a loud burp, followed with a satisfying sound.

“I now know what I want my last meal to be, that was fucking good.”

“You’re disgusting,” mini-Eddie stated, unimpressed

Mini-Richie let out a weak chuckle, “You know you love me—and since you do, I know you’re going to tell me where the hell we are?!”

The other straightened his back, feeling nervous that his friend went straight for the topic of their weird situation, “Oh. Uh, okay. Maybe we should sit on the couch?”

Mini-Richie gave him a tense smile, “That bad, hm? Fine spaghetti, let’s sit on the couch, whatever you want,” he was the first one to hop from the stool, walking ahead of an anxious-looking teen Eddie, who only followed after taking a deep breath.

They were not sitting on the L-shaped couch, and mini-Richie whistled at the size of it, fascinated and in awe because he has never seen a couch this huge. He stopped being amazed when his friend sat next to him, almost leaving no space between them—that made him hold his breath for a second before acting as nonchalant about having his secret crush be deliberately close to him as he could.

Mini-Eddie, unaware of his friend tensing up at the nearness, inhaled and let everything out as less complicated as he could, “So, we’re both thirty years into the future and this house is going to be yours and mine.”

The reaction came a little late but after a few moments of absorbing what his Eddie had just stated out of his mouth, mini-Richie snorted and shook his head in disbelief, “Okay, so I’m definitely dreaming…” he sighed, smiling bitterly and showing disappointment, “I really thought this was real. That you were alive…” he slouched over his seat and began rocking himself, “It’s all a lie…” he whined, mostly to himself.

The other looked at him, horrified, “No! Richie, this _is_ real!! I’m telling you the truth!” mini-Eddie insisted, laying his hand on his Richie’s shoulder.

“You can’t trick me anymore, you fucking clown!” mini-Richie snapped, abruptly shrugging it away as he gave him a demented look laced with pain, “Get away from me! Stop torturing me! Just kill me already!!”

Panicking and flinching at how loud his unpredictable friend was being, mini-Eddie did the first thing that came up to his mind to quiet him down—the last thing he wanted was everyone to wake up and scare his Richie even more—and glomped him with as much strength as he could, pinning him on the couch and keeping him there as the other began struggling instantly. It was tough for mini-Eddie to even manage to seize his friend’s wrists to keep his arms from moving around erratically and with the size difference it was deemed almost impossible. But mini-Eddie was persistent and even though he didn’t want to hurt his Richie, he would if it had to be done. It wasn’t like it would’ve been the first time, anyways.

“Stop moving, asshole! This is real, I’m real!! Look, at me— _ouch, Rich stop it_ —look at me!!” mini-Eddie quickly said, becoming out of breath as he tried to keep himself from being thrown to the floor,‌ “Fucking look at me, dipshit!”

Mini-Richie huffed, becoming slightly exhausted from struggling so much. Even though he ate a lot and drank some water, his body was still recovering from being neglected so even a kid the size of Eddie Kaspbrak could take him down, “What? I’m looking, okay? Are you going to turn into a scary version of Eddie? Maybe melt your face? Spit that black blood on me?” the future comedian threw at him bitterly and sarcastically.

Mini-Eddie, standing on top of him and so close to his face, could see the dark circles under his friend’s eyes in a better way, and that made him frown even deeper, “No. I’m not gonna do that—but I need you to listen. Your name is Richie Tozier, but we call you Trashmouth. Your bike’s name is Muddy because you found it in a mud puddle and fixed it. Your dad is a dentist—”

“Oh, fucking come the fuck on!!!” mini-Richie interrupted, rolling his eyes, “IT could know that!! IT knows everything!”

Mini-Eddie was somberly quiet for a few seconds, taking in his friend’s challenging look, “Okay. Fine. When we were twelve, just a week before my birthday, you came to my house at two in the morning.”

That got a reaction from his skeptic friend.

He continues speaking, using an earnest tone to make it clear that this was their reality, “You threw a pebble at my window, and I was able to sneak out of my house. You were crying.”

“Stop.”

“We sat on the porch and talked quietly, you told me you heard your parents talk in the kitchen—”

“Stop it!” he whined fearfully.

“—and you heard your mom saying that she wished she had a daughter instead of a son, that she wanted you to be more like your sister. That she was scared of never understanding you. That your parents were thinking about taking you to a special doctor in Bangor to see what was wrong with your behavior.”

“Please…”

“You told me that you wanted to run away from Derry and that you wanted me to come with you.”

“Enough!!” mini-Richie begged, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, “Please… I believe you… just stop. I don’t want to remember that night.”

Mini-Eddie felt guilty for bringing that foul memory back to life, but he needed his friend to believe him. The two had locked it away deep inside their minds, that not even Pennywise could’ve grasped it. That night was a weird one, especially for Eddie. He got to see a side of Richie that he never showed again—the two acted as if that night didn’t happen the next day that they did end up almost forgetting about it. But mini-Eddie didn’t, he couldn’t let go of how vulnerable his friend had looked, sobbing and hugging him tightly.

He didn’t forget that Richie Tozier wasn’t always their funny Trashmouth.

“I’m sorry Rich, I had to prove it. I—”

“I get it. I know, it’s fine,” the other cut him quickly, looking away sourly, “Can you… get off me, please?” his expression shifted, “As much as I love having you on top of me, Eds, you’re kinda kneeing my dick.”

He knew he was teasing him, but that didn’t stop mini-Eddie from yelping and throw himself backward, scattering away with an embarrassed expression,‌ “Fuck you, Richie!”

Hearing a heartfelt chuckle coming from mini-Richie made him feel less guilty about drawing back a memory that his friend wordlessly told him to forget, “You should’ve seen your face!”

Rolling his eyes, mini-Eddie didn’t manage to suppress a smile before giving him a cautious look, “Are… you okay?” he asked tentatively.

Mini-Richie sniffed as he rose into a sitting position, he was still smiling but his eyes were thoughtful as he stared at the other, “I’ll be fine. I guess… This is fucking weird—are we really in the future?”‌

“Yup,” mini-Eddie confirmed, “And there’s more.”

“Wait, you said that this house was mine _and_ yours?”‌

“Can you stop interrupting me? I’m trying to explain!” mini-Eddie snapped softly at him.

Surprisingly, mini-Richie gave him a sheepish look,‌ “Sorry Eds, I’m just overwhelmed by all of this shit.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” the brunette sighed, not caring at all about the nickname, “And I know, I probably should explain things better now that you believe me for real.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

And so he did.

Mini-Eddie told his friend about how he landed in the future three days ago—right on a bed. He explained that after he got separated from him and Bill at the Neibolt, Eddie was scared by the leper and fell into a hole Pennywise created to make him fall. Mini-Richie was shocked when he realized that his friend could’ve been seriously hurt if that happened—or worst. He managed to stay silent and attentive and he regarded mini-Eddie’s explanation to what the fuck was going on. He was told that yes, this was their house because they were roommates. That every adult that was currently sleeping was the Losers—except for Bill’s and Stan’s wives—and that nobody else from the eighties was here besides them.

Mini-Richie awed at his friend as he kept talking with his usual velocity, but he found himself smiling warmly as well. He had missed hearing his Eddie’s rapid speeches, hand gestures to emphasize what he was saying and stern look. He had missed his irrational fears and excuses as to why he has them. But he truly had missed his eyes the most, those doe brown eyes that carried more soul and emotion than anyone else mini-Richie knew. Not even Bill carried the same fire.

“Richie, are you listening to me?” mini-Eddie asked, mildly annoyed, after a few minutes of talking nonstop to his friend’s dazed look.

“Always, Eddie Spaghetti,” mini-Richie promptly retorted, throwing him a grin.

Nodding, he continued talking, “Anyways, apparently, you and I host an annual get together during summer and it began on the fourth of July this year—the day when you arrived, yesterday.”

“Wait… you disappeared on that day!” mini-Richie realized, “Why did you show up days earlier here, though?”

_Timing._

Both kids jolted up from the couch at the same time, mini-Eddie jumped towards mini-Richie, clinging onto him as the taller boy shielded him behind his back as both stared at the ceiling with widened, alarmed eyes.

“What the fuck, what the fuck!!!” mini-Eddie screeched.

“You heard that too, right? Right?!” the other cried, “What was that??”

“Wait shut up,” the brunette hissed as he looked at the staircase, anxious to see the second-floor lights being turned on by someone that heard them scream, but a full minute passed and the house was still silent—albeit for their terrified, heavy breathing.

Mini-Richie looked around once again before he finally relaxed, “What the fuck do you think that was? You heard it, right? That voice…”

Mini-Eddie stepped away from his friend to give him a reassuring nod, “Yeah Rich, I heard it. And I have to idea who that was, but it was inside my fucking head.”

They stared at each other, lost at what to do next. Mini-Eddie sighed and began rubbing his temples, taking a seat on the couch again. He looked stressed and mini-Richie found himself awkwardly still standing, looking at him without a clue in what to do to comfort him.

He found himself growing tired, not because his body felt weak or because of the sleepiness growing on him, but because he just wanted this summer to a normal one where had had fun with his friends before high school. But t began with them dealing with a clown that eats kids, having to think that Eddie died and traveling thirty years to the future.

This was definitely not a normal summer.

“Let’s just try to sleep,” mini-Richie finally said, sounding uncharacteristically listless. He sat heavily next to his scared friend and sighed, “Eds, let’s sleep,” he repeated to emphasize it.

Too frightened to argue back and beginning to feel his own sleepiness return, mini-Eddie dropped his shoulders in a defeated way and nodded, “Okay, but there is no way I’m turning off the lights after that.”

Mini-Richie didn’t care about that, he crawled to the space of the couch where he woke up and lied down, covering himself with the same blanket that was put on him while he was unconscious. He looked at mini-Eddie expectantly, and the other sighed, giving him a knowing look.

During sleepovers, there was an unspoken rule that the two slept side by side. It just happened, so it began to be a thing. Not only in sleepovers but everything else as well: going to the movie theater, on a rollercoaster, sitting down anywhere—they even began sharing the hammock after mini-Eddie became annoyed over the arguments about whose turn was it.

None of the Losers cared, they all treated it as a natural thing. They got paired up.

So that is why, when mini-Richie scooted to his left to create a space next to him, mini-Eddie lied down on it. The two had space between them, it wasn’t as if their arms were touching each other, but mini-Richie could never handle staring at him while they tried to fall asleep, especially with the lights turned on. So he shifted his body to look at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

Mini-Richie didn’t hear much afterward, only the soft sighs coming from his friend. He relaxed, letting his tiredness overcome him completely.

They both had a dreamless night.

* * *

**9:22 AM**

Eddie descended the staircase very carefully to avoid waking up the two soft snores he could hear coming from the couch. He padded softly across the room towards the kitchen and switched off the lights that were necessarily turned on now that the sun outside brightened the house naturally.

Slowly, he approached the couch and sighed softly at the sight of his younger self sleeping next to mini-Richie. It looks like the two woke up in the middle of the night and Eddie was relieved that they were calm enough to go back to sleep. He almost stayed up late in case mini-Richie woke up and freaked out too much but he didn’t hear any uproar from downstairs so he managed to have a decent sleep.

Eddie, now satisfied that both kids were fine, returned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for everyone. He did, however, arched his thick eyebrow at the plate and tableware on one of the island counters. He grabbed the dish without thinking much about it but feeling mildly bothered about seeing dirty dishes in his kitchen. He wasn’t annoyed though, he felt a little comforted that mini-Richie presumably had something to eat last night.

As he placed the plate inside the dishwasher, Eddie smiled knowingly. His younger self probably forced him to eat after being asleep for so long.

With the dishwasher now full, Eddie turned it on and felt pleased when it hummed quietly, as it should since it was so damn expensive. It was Richie who insisted on getting the best technologic dishwasher, surprisingly. But Eddie humouredly speculated that the reason behind it was because his husband never wanted to wash a dish every again after Maggie Tozier had to force him to do it.

He missed his mother-in-law, maybe when all of this mess is solved he will invite her and Went for dinner.

As he moved towards the fridge to think about breakfast, Eddie’s mind drifted back to yearning for a child. He began thinking about Maggie gushing about her grandkids while she visited with Went—them being good grandparents. Went sneaking money to Eddie’s kid without him or Richie knowing.

He sighed, making himself sad at eight in the morning wasn’t something he’d planned.

Shrugging it away, Eddie grabbed a carton of eggs and closed the fridge.

He turned on the coffee machine and began preparing sunny-side-up eggs. While he cooked, Eddie entered his pantry and grabbed the cereal boxes he and Richie had, hoping that at least one of them would appease the two time-traveling kids, and he might be middle-aged, but Eddie frowned knowing that Alpen Cereals and Fiber One would not sound appealing—at least to mini-Richie.

So Eddie placed the cereals back on the shelf, left the pantry, and decided to fry bacon with the eggs.

Minutes later, while he cooked the last batch—after making a stack of eggs and bacon on a plate—he almost jumped when he felt a presence next to him. His brown eyes stared at a sleepy-looking Stan, who was glaring at the coffee machine whilst fetching a mug next to it.

“Good morning,” he grumbled.

Losing the startled expression, Eddie grinned amusedly at his friend, who was not a morning person, “’Morning.”

They remained silent while Stan pressed the button for his coffee to fill the mug, and when it was done, he grabbed it without putting sugar in it and leaned against the island, staring at Eddie before taking a sip.

“So, we now have Richie,” Stan began conversationally, “Should I be prepared to see my younger self, too?”

Eddie turned off the gas and placed the last eggs and bacon on the food stacked plate, “We need to call him mini-Richie to avoid any confusions,”‌ the brunette replied with a smile, “And yes, I think it’s safe to say that you should be prepared for it.”

“Safe, uh? Nothing about this is safe. We have two kids that time-traveled—something that not even the brightest minds of the world have succeeded in doing—and God knows what IT is planning with all of this,” Stan told him bitterly before sipping on his mug again.

Eddie sighed, “Stan we don’t even know if this is IT’s doing.”

Rolling his eyes, the accounted gestured towards the sleeping figures on the couch with his free arm as he gave his friend an exasperated look, “Who else could have the astronomical powers to do that?!‌”

“Maturin.”

Both Eddie and Stan looked at the owner of the voice sharply, their heads turning fast. Mike stood there, looking at them with a sad smile for startling them. He walked up to the two, greeting them with a small wave, “Good morning…”

“Good morning,” the other men responded instantly.

“Who the fuck is Maturin?” Eddie added quickly.

Mike sat down on one of the stools, wrapping his robe closer to his body even though it wasn’t cold, “Maturin is a turtle. He vomited our universe, creating it,” he saw the confused and disgusted looks on his friends’ faces, so Mike keenly continued quickly before they could complain about it, “There is something called the Macroverse. IT was a creature that was in the void on it. Maturin existed long before the creation of the universe, and I think he could be the only explanation to this situation but…”

“Oh, there’s always a but,” Eddie lamented, still shaken by the information he was receiving.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Stan deadpanned with a tired voice.

Mike nodded solemnly, “I think so. At least, that is what IT told me.”

“What the fuck?!” Eddie spluttered, eyeing the kids as soon after he did to make sure he didn’t wake them up. He watched as mini-Richie’s legs stirred a little, but remained still afterward.

“Goddamit Mikey! We said no more secrets,” Stan scolded him, looking at his friend almost sadly, “When did IT tell you that?”

“Before you guys arrived in Derry, IT began taunting me. ‘The turtle is dead and he won’t help you!’ IT would say. A-And the reason I didn’t tell you guys was that it didn’t matter anyway!” the librarian tried to defend himself, but that only earned him a shocked look from his friends.

“Didn’t matter? Mike…” Stan sighed, “Every piece of information back then would’ve been important. It was enough that you kept us in the dark about the ritual—you can’t keep secrets like these from us. Especially now that we have a new problem that could be IT trying to return!”

Eddie stepped in, “Whoa, Stan. I’ve told you before, this might not be IT.”

Mike nodded, “I don’t believe it’s Pennywise either. There’s something different about this, can’t you guys feel it? There’s nothing malicious about the kid’s presence—they are as confused as we are. Sure, they didn’t ask to be here, but I think whoever sent them, sent them for a reason.”

Stan grumbled and sipped on his coffee again before talking, “Yes, it’s all very fun. Seeing our friends as kids, but I don’t think I am mentally prepared to see myself as a thirteen-year-old. I mean, what about Patty and Aviva? I don’t want my daughter to be exposed to this side of my past! It’s enough for Patty to be in the circle—and that was something that I never wanted to happen,” he paused, breathing heavily before speaking again, his voice cracking, “I just don’t want my daughter to ever know about IT. I want her to have a normal, happy childhood.”

“Stan, hey…” Eddie softly said as he approached the man, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Avi will never know about that fucking clown, man. Not her, or the twins, or even Lydia. None of them will find out about what we went through.”

“Yeah, Stanley, we promised each other to take it to our graves,” Mike continued, smiling reassuringly as his friend.

Taking deep breaths, Stan began relaxing under Eddie’s hand, squeezing his shoulder gently as a way to calm him down and make him feel safe, “I’m sorry I—I’m just so worried, you know?”

“Totally, dude. We get it. I’m worried too, hell, I’m scared shitless,”‌ Eddie told him truthfully, “But they’re counting on us. We’re the adults so we gotta be level-headed and not panic in front of the kids.”

There was a moment of silence, Stan sipped from his mug after Eddie finally took his hand away and returned to stand on the other side. But then, after thinking about it, Stan decided to speak up and not let his question make him anxious.

“If… if the rest of them show up, should we tell them about what is going to happen?”

Eddie didn’t know what to say immediately. Inwardly, he wanted to shout a ‘no’. But after remaining quiet, wearing only a haunted expression, he thought better about an answer and all he could think about was ‘why not?’. If the mini-Losers knew about their future, they would’ve been prepared better. Hell, maybe they could even attempt to kill IT back in 1989.

Which was a ridiculous idea—Eddie almost snorted at his mind. There is no way a group of seven pre-teens could defeat the monstrous spider they had to deal with two years ago.

He sighed and heard Mike talking.

“I think we all need to have a proper breakfast, regroup and discuss important stuff with everyone present,” Mike wisely inputted, earning a nod from Stan and Eddie.

“Right. I’ll go wake up Patty and Aviva then, see you guys later,” Stan said after placing his now empty mug on the sink since the dishwasher was currently doing its purpose.

Eddie and Mike watched him leave the kitchen in silence, and the librarian’s dark eyes drifted to the sleeping teens on the couch. He eyes them sadly as if he was filled with remorse. That made Eddie walk up to him with a stern expression, knowing damn well what Mike was thinking.

“Just stop it, this isn’t your fault.”

“But—”

“No buts, Mikey. Just because Richie and I asked for your help it doesn’t mean that you have to solve this issue by yourself. This isn’t a _you_ problem, man, it’s a _us_. We’re all in this together, and I don’t want you feeling guilty because you can’t come up with a solution,” Eddie asserted passionately, enunciating every word with a hand gesture.

Mike smiled a little, but then it dropped as quickly as it came, “I can’t believe you and Richie have to keep your marriage as a secret,” he said in a melancholic but hushed tone.

Eddie frowned at him, suddenly paying attention to his fingers as he drummed them nervously on the counter, “It’s fine.”

Mike disagreed, shaking his head, “No, it’s not. It’s heartbreaking.”

Simpering at the sympathetic words his friend was saying, Eddie looked back at him and shared a look with Mike, “You know what? Yeah, it fucking sucks. I wanna be able to be proud that I’m married to that idiot—I love him. And I don’t even remember if I had feelings for Trashmouth at that age,” he eyed the couch again, to emphasize it, “It’s better this way. They come from a different time and they would both freak their shit out. It’s best if we only have _one_ problem to solve at the moment,” Eddie said with forced optimism.

“I agreed with you,” Mike said, almost as if he was defending himself.

“Great!” Eddie said as he smiled calmly at him, “Now, changing the subject. I know you don’t drink coffee, but I can make you some tea. What would you like?”

“Uh—”

“I got chamomile, mint, honey, earl grey, peach, green, lemon, cinnamon—”

Before Mike could attempt to answer Eddie’s rapid rambling, they both heard a groan coming from the couch. Looking over, they saw a hand show up in the air to grasp onto the back of it, and from behind, one head emerged with very messy hair and a disgruntled expression.

“Who the fuck is over there shouting stripper names?! I will fucking slap you.”

Oh, mini-Richie was awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder, I have a Tumblr! 
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/budaiowriter


	8. Not a chapter!

**Hello everyone!**

**Sorry for not saying anything about why I’m taking my time to update this story (while I’m posting one-shots). Between taking care of my grandma and my new job (I started a week ago) I haven’t gotten the time to really work on a new chapter for this story. One thing is writing one-shots, the other is carefully adding a new chapter to a long story with an actual plot.**

**I still want to continue this story, so I’m asking for patience, please!! Also, I’m on the TUA (The Umbrella Academy) fandom now and I’m thinking on writing a story for it as well! The TUA story might come first since it’s new, but I’ll update this story soon as well!**

**I have a slow laptop (it’s a kid’s laptop that’s like, over 10 years old) and I’m waiting to get paid to buy a new and better laptop so I can feel motivated to write!**

**Thank you so much for being patience, and I hope everyone is being safe during this pandemic!**


	9. Update!

**Hello! I'm so sorry for disappointing you if you were expecting a new update, but I have good news!**

**I finally have my life a little sorted out!! I'm currently working on the new chapter for this story, because I most definitely haven't forgotten about it! Meanwhile, why don't you check my smau? It's called Binding Ties! You can find it on Twitter and IG as @btiesfixitau <3 **

**Stay safe!!**

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave Kudos and a comment, they make my day! :)


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